The Great War of Oz
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: An epic tale, merging the Oz series and the Wicked years into a legend as large as the Oziad itself. Plenty of OCs, though the tale follows the books more than the movies/musicals, there will be some hints to those throughout. Enjoy
1. Introduction

The Great War of Oz

_**(Author's Note: This is a fan-fiction work, none of which belongs to me. This is one of my first attempts at an epic. It is based off of Wicked the book and the Oz series books. In regards to inconsistencies between the musical and the film the Wizard of Oz, I often consult the books for the final say, but will sometimes go a third way in creating an explanation of my own. I hope you enjoy this, and remember that if you like this story, keep it alive by reviewing. Thank you and enjoy)**_

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****Introduction**_

In the middle of the Southern land of the Quadlings, deep within the Marshes, there floated a small city. It was a marvel in and of itself: whole city-quarters floating upon the surface of the marshes. They were connected by wooden bridges that could be withdrawn in the event of some mishap.

A rather unlikely occurrence in Oz.

Standing apart from the terracotta city buildings and houses of the Quadlings, veritable palaces in comparison to the mud-huts in which they lived before, was the great ruby palace around which the various sections of the city floated and were anchored to by bridge. It was a place of magic, for the sheer amount of rubies suggested that this palace must have taken years to erect and place here, in the middle of the marshes.

But it was completed in under a week, all thanks to magic. The structure was made of the usual things palaces are, save that the foundation and walls were of the same blood-red rubies that grew like grass at the bottom of the marshes. Those had been raised up by magic, using the rubies of the swamps, and made together into this great palace.

The palace of the Lady Glinda.

As her palace stood out from the earthen dwellings of the city, so the fair-skinned sorceress stood out among the ruddy-skinned swamp-dwellers of the Quadlings. More akin to the upper-class Gilikinese of the North she was. In fact, many people would mistake her for the Good Witch of the North, though her palace was located in the South. The truth was that the Lady Glinda was indeed Gilikinese, though how she had come to be the sorceress of the swamp-land is a tale that will be told in the fullness of time.

Those who knew the Lady Glinda neither cared that she was a Gilikinese woman ruling over the Quadlings – which, in more severe times, would smack of invasion and dominance by a foreign dignitary: the Lady Glinda was good, and that was the reason why so many people loved her.

Dan'ai was as Quadling as they come, except for her hair: it was red like the color of brick, or of the rubies of her land, in contrast to her dark skin. She had risen up from a common swamp-dweller to the captain of the Lady Glinda's personal guard: a cadre of young women from all corners of Oz who protected the land's favorite sorceress. There were four divisions among the guard, each given their specific color in regard to where the ladies of that division came from. Dan'ai, or Aidan as she was called by those who did not speak her native _Qua'ati_, was from the Red Division, though she was captain over all of the bodyguards.

As captain, she had a great deal of responsibilities. One of which was the daily report that she delivered personally to the Lady.

This brought her before the Lady Glinda's chamber, awaiting an audience. Usually it did not take a long while for the dainty sorceress to make a pause from her reading – surprisingly, someone as beautiful as Glinda actually did read – and saunter over to the door.

Today, however, there was no answer when Dan'ai knocked.

"My lady?" she inquired. There was still silence coming from the room.

"I have today's reports." Still nothing.

The young Quadling reached into her armor and took out a ruby-jeweled key. As captain of the guard, Dan'ai was given special privileges: one of which included care of the key to Lady Glinda's chamber, in case she needed to get in.

When Dan'ai opened the door, she happened upon a startling and somewhat disturbing sight. Lady Glinda was not present in the room. Even worse, the room was in a state of disorder atypical to the lavishly beautiful yet immaculately neat habits of Lady Glinda. The pedestal on which the Lady kept her book, the one which recorded events in Oz while they were happening, was empty. Where the book should have been, however, there was an envelope. It was of plain white paper, with red scribbling on the front. The scribbling spelled out a name. The name of whom the letter was meant for, obviously, for only the Lady Glinda wrote with such flowing yet interestingly messy hand-writing.

The letter was addressed to the Ozma…


	2. The Departure of Glinda the Good

**(Author's Note: Sorry about the shortness of the introduction and the time it took to post this first chapter. As I do not have a charger cable for my laptop and have to share computers once again, updates may not be very frequent. Please don't complain about "filler" chapters, those are essential to establishing the plot and characters: plus, many Wicked-fans may not have read the Oz series. Here we go. Enjoy)**

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Chapter 1 – The Disappearance of Glinda the Good

Gleaming upon the edge of the Northern horizon like a green sunrise rose the Emerald City. It was the heart of all Oz, the center star of the crown of the ruling Ozma.

It was also the destination of a very determined Fox.

Ruddrix had not exactly lived a privileged life. It wasn't easy living as an Animal in the ever-changing political environment of Oz. Though, fortunately, he was too young to remember first-hand the cruelties inflicted upon his people by the "wonderful" Wizard of Oz. He had just been a pup at that time, and his memory reached back only to the rule of the Ozma. Change had brought a brief respite and a time of peace, but Ruddrix was not as gullible as the rest of Oz.

Nor was his friend Aidan. He had known the young Quadling girl when she was still a child: an orphan running from the massacre at Ovvels. Now she was grown, working for the Lady Glinda. As for he, well, he continued to remain friends with the red-haired Quadling, doing the odd-favors for her and sharing lunch break.

But he was also a Fox. In the old times, the Foxes were regarded as the swiftest creatures in all of Oz. It was considered a great honor for a Fox to be given the charge of carrying messages, and a greater dishonor to fail that charge. As the restrictions against Animals sent the Foxes back into their holes, this idea of the Noble Emissary of the Foxes slowly died away, though it was not altogether gone.

There was still one Fox as noble as his ancestors had been.

Around his back was a small white envelope, tied to his fur with a cord. His friend had found it in the vacant chambers of the Lady Glinda, and summoned her loyal friend to deliver it to the Ozma in the Emerald City. Naturally, he accepted it like a thirsty man would accept a bucket of water after a long journey. Without delay, Ruddrix made haste, the glow of the Emerald City his only compass.

The Emerald Palace was the center-piece of the enormous green capital of Oz. It had even grown larger after the Ozma returned to her throne. Though, obviously, it had grown for different reasons. During the reign of the Wizard, it was an austere place with few rooms and many screens and curtains. Now it was larger, with many apartments to house the assortment of friends the Ozma had over constantly.

This ruler, Ozma Tippetarius, was known more for her caravan of friends and the parties she threw for them than for being much of a ruler. She didn't know the first thing about ruling a country, that was for certain. She kept the peace by way of a Love Magnet that forced everyone to love her, while keeping watch on them with her magical tapestry that showed everything that was happening in Oz.

Her friends weren't much for advisers either. Her closest friend, the young girl Dorothy Gale who now lived in Oz with her aunt and uncle, was a tough little thing, but years of living in the lap of Ozian luxury had made her complacent. Her stalwart companions, the high-minded Scarecrow, the dandy Tin Woodsman and the cowardly Lion, whose disposition to fear was made even more ridiculous with the red blow placed in his mane, had no mind for ruling. The Scarecrow sometimes acted as a ruler, but he was more content with arguing with the Tin Woodsman over which was better: the heart or the mind.

And then there was the Wizard. He had left Oz only to come back in an earthquake and make it his permanent home. The inhabitants, including Dorothy, held nothing against him, and even Glinda gave him real magical power – with the only restriction being that it could not be used to harm anyone. Therefore, the humbug from Omaha was still a humbug, just not an impotent one. Maybe there was something different about him, for he contented himself with inventing new things for the people of Oz, rather than seeking to regain his place as the ruler.

There were many others, all of them equally incapable of ruling Oz as the last. The Tiger, known for his voracious appetite and nagging conscience, was as big a pussy-cat as the Lion had become. Jack Pumpkin-head was preoccupied with his Jack-o-Lantern head, out of fear of it spoiling. The Patchwork Girl named Scraps was horribly blunt, the Shaggy Man did not want to rule, and most of the others had their own places to rule or were too preoccupied with themselves to even consider such a responsibility.

But their perfect world is about to collapse.

The rotund Private Amby ran through the corridor that led to the Throne Room, his orange whiskers all a mess. Not even bothering to knock at the huge gate, he threw the doors open and skidded to a halt just before the great banquet table. Assembled here were the Ozma's guests, with Ozma herself at the head of the table, Dorothy on her right and the Wizard on her left, with a separate table for those who did not eat, like the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodsman.

"Your Highness!" he cried out, towards the Ozma. She made a coughing sound, as though she had almost choked on her drink. "There is a..."

"Private," the girl-ruler of Oz said with a sickly-sweet smile. "I hope this is important. You've disturbed our lunch."

"My apologies, Ozma." he said, bowing so low his beard swept the green floor. "There is a Fox at the outer gate of the Palace. He says that he is carrying a message."

"Then bring it in," she said, with a wave of her hand as she returned to her food. "When we're done."

"Your Highness," the private added. "The message is from Lady Glinda. Furthermore, the Fox was very insistent that I deliver this message to you at once. He threatened to jump off of the highest tower if he was delayed a moment longer."

"Like that would do any harm," Ozma said with a snickering smile. "I am Ozma. While I rule, nothing in this land dies. That is the decree of Lurline from the beginning. Surely you of all people..."

"Still, your Highness," the private continued. "The Fox is making quite a scene."

"Well, we can't have anyone making a scene out in front of the Palace, now can we?"

Grunts of approval came from the guests, who did not so much as raise their eyes to view the private. Ozma waved her hand in dismissal, and the private walked back down the hallway. When he came back, he had in tow the Fox in question.

"Your Highness," Ruddrix said. "I bring word from Lady Glinda, Good Witch of the South."

Ozma rose from her seat and carelessly sauntered over to where the Private and the Fox stood.

"Ain't Glinda the Good Witch of th' North?" Dorothy asked.

"She was in my time," the Wizard said. "But how she became Good Witch of the South, I can't fully say. Only she'd have that answer."

Ozma held out a hand to indicate that the guests shouldn't speak out as she came to a halt before the Fox.

"Well, out with it." she said to him.

"I pray I am not too late." he said, pawing the letter from off his back. "May I be cursed of my littler if I fail my charge."

"Oh, there's no need for that." Ozma said. She lifted her hands palms outwards to the level of her shoulders and indicated with her eyes that Private Amby pick up the letter. This he did and extended it out to her, which she then took and walked back to her seat.

"What about the Fox?" the Private asked.

"Begone." she said nonchalantly. Once upon her throne, Ozma asked a servant to bring her a letter opener. The little servant girl Jellia Jamb brought out an emerald-bladed knife, inlaid with the emblem of Oz in gold. She slid the blade through the envelope, took out the letter and read from it.

Just then, with a gasp, Ozma dropped the letter, picked up her skirts and ran towards the North Tower. Picking up that something was wrong, Dorothy picked up the letter and ran after her; the Wizard also brought up the rear.

Dorothy found her friend standing in the hallway of the Northern tower, staring at her favorite tapestry (the one that showed her all that was happening in Oz). Coming to stop at her side, the little farm-girl nudged her friend's shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked. Ozma remained silent, scanning the map pensively. Due to the occasional grunts of frustration, whatever she was looking for was nowhere to be found on the tapestry.

"Would you mind 's'plainin' what's goin' on?" Dorothy asked again.

"The letter." was all that Ozma said, returning to her scanning of the map. Dorothy took a moment to read the letter, while the pit-pat of expensive leather shoes indicated the Wizard was making his way into the hall.

The letter was on white paper, a very uncommon thing in Oz. The words were in a fast, flowing and beautiful script. This is what it said.

"My Dearest Ruler,

"I send you all my best wishes and Good sentiments, but I find myself busied with such things that are grave and dire. The book that records all the things that happen in Oz was stolen from my paLace. What's more, I receiveD terrifying nEws from Gilikin and had to hasteN thereto. Do not attempt to folloW me. ONly prepare for the worst: Dark and frightEning times aRe ahead of uS. Use the greatest caution.

"With Lurline's blessing...Glinda."

"Sumthin' ain't right with this'ere letter." Dorothy said, looking it over and over again.

"There's something even worse," Ozma said, with a twinge of concern in her usual giddy voice. "I can't find Glinda on my tapestry. It always shows me everything that's going on in Oz, but I can't find her!"

"She ain't in Quadlin' Country?"

"Not anymore." Ozma began. "She said she'd gone to Gilikin for some reason or another, but she's not on the map."

Just then, the one whose shoes were making the noise arrived in the Violet Hallway, just in time to see the two arguing about Glinda.

"What's this I hear?" Oscar asked.

"Glinda's gone North for some reason," Ozma said. "But she's not showing up on my tapestry."

"Why can't we jus' go to Gilly-kin 'n search for 'er?" Dorothy asked.

"Perhaps." Ozma said.

"Wait, what's this all about?" the Wizard asked.

Dorothy deposited the letter in his hands while she followed Ozma back to her room, where she was packing a few things together for their journey. Behind them came the Wizard, who was reading intently from the letter.

"Your Highness," he said to Ozma. "I suggest you take someone with you as an escort."

Ozma laughed a nauseating titter. "Whatever for?"

"Lady Glinda said something bad was on the horizon." he argued. "For your own protection, take someone with you who will protect you in case..."

"In case what?" Ozma asked. "I am Ozma, beloved by everyone and everything in Oz. Whoever would want to hurt little old me?"

"Besides, Toto'll come with us." Dorothy added.

"Still," the Wizard said. "I wish you'd take one of those Winkie swords the Tin Woodsman brought back from the West."

Ozma laughed again. She then turned to look upon the Wizard. "I only let those green swords into the Palace so the officers can wield them on parade day. They look so pretty, they do."

"But if it were just for parade," the Wizard said. "I doubt the Winkies would have bothered using their own precious veridium to make the blades out of. The strongest in all the land, they said: and glow in the moonlight!"

"Pretty as they may be, I don't know how to wield a sword, and nor does Dorothy."

"If you insist." the Wizard said. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh fine, then." Ozma said. "I'll take one of the bothersome blades, but it will only weigh us down. Not like there will be any need for it."

How wrong she was.

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**(Okay, now I've written a great deal in the rough[est] draft version of this, but I've got years of revision to do on this project. Firstly, let me just point out that, according to the book "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", Glinda WAS the Good Witch of the South, not the North. The director of the movie "The Wizard of Oz" combined Glinda and Locasta's characters together in the movie, so Glinda became the Good Witch of the North rather than the South. I plan to explain this in an in-universe explanation; however, I need permission from LeiaEmberblaze to use her character Leyen the Good Witch of the South in my story. Once again, ideas, suggestions and reviews are needful and welcomed)**


	3. The Golden Mirror

**(AN: Before you start going all out on me for giving Dorothy a Southern accent, I would like to point out that the Oz series DID have her speak with a regional dialect, which was only changed in the MGM movie. Therefore, this is more in line with the original source material than "The Wizard of Oz" is. I have a lot of explaining to do as well, but that's the fun of this tale. Now enjoy)**

**Chapter 2 – The Golden Mirror**

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The land of Gilikin.

The northern-most of the four great countries of Oz. This was the home of Ozma, where she had been raised as a boy during her youth. It was a beautiful land, albeit civilized greatly. At the southern end, within three days journey from the Emerald City by foot, there was the university town of Shiz. Northward was the Great Gilikin Forest.

It was into this land that the two young women found themselves venturing. They did not exactly know where the house of the Good Witch of the North was, for they had never bothered to ask. Although, they assumed, it was definitely someplace far into the north, perhaps on the foothills of Mt. Runcible itself.

The three-day journey to Shiz revealed little. However, the Yellow Brick Road stopped there, and the rest of the journey would have to be by foot. The Great Gilikin Railroad had fallen into neglect, what with magic being the more apt mode of transportation. Those who were friends of the Ozma were allowed to be transported wherever they wished by magic. Everyone else had to walk.

The fourth night of their journey was dawning, with no sign of Glinda anywhere. By now, the two girls were somewhere deep within the Great Gilikin Forest. Though exactly where they were, neither of them knew for certain. They had no maps, and therefore didn't know which part of the forest they were in.

They walked in darkness for a great while; the only light being that of the stars. After doing so for a few minutes, and a few stumbles and bruises added on to that, they came to a stop. Now even the stars were starting to fade.

"This here's pointless." Dorothy said. "We can't see nothin' in this darkness."

"Odd, though, the nighttime is never this dark." said Ozma.

"Well, that don't help us none, does it?" asked the young farm girl.

"Maybe…" Ozma said, wondering something. She reached onto her back, where the sword was tied, and drew it out. "Ha! I knew it!"

"What d'you know, Ozma?"

"These swords are made of veridium," Ozma began. "It's a special kind of green stone, found in the Winkie Country that is supposed to glow at night. At least this ridiculous sword is good for something."

It was true. The sleek, dark-green blade shone in the blackness of night like a beacon of green fire.

"So what d'we do now?" Dorothy asked. "We're plum stuck in this here darkness, and no sign of that good'ol witch's house!"

Ozma shushed her friend.

There was a long, pensive silence that followed. Nothing stirred in the forest, not even the animals.

They heard a scuffling noise directly behind them. The two girls turned around to see what it was.

A darkened figure, flooded by the darkness, wearing a hood and a great cloak that concealed any especially identifying features, stood before them. It stood its ground for the moment, not moving at all or saying anything; though the two could tell that it swayed slightly.

"Who are you?" Ozma asked, fear rising up in her throat. "What do you want?"

The figure made no noise, but lurched forward.

"Stay where you are!" Ozma said, her hand holding the sword out in front of her, but the hands were shaking. She truly never wielded a sword in her life.

But the figure ignored her altogether, and approached Dorothy instead. She stood there, a little bit of fear in her heart. But she forced it back down: she had faced worse things than a dark figure at night.

"Murderer!" hissed a voice from inside the hood. The voice was strange, slurred and almost familiar, though it sounded harsh, cold and vengeful.

Ozma screamed, and threw her sword up in the air haphazardly. Whether by luck or by fate, the sword came to rest just between Dorothy and the darkened figure. Maybe it was the light that shone from the blade, or Ozma's ear-splitting scream that caused it to run.

Whatever it was, the shrouded figure departed almost as quickly and quietly as it had arrived.

The girl-ruler picked up the sword and then they continued on their way, hoping that they would not run into that thing again. But they had not gone far when the forest was suddenly illuminated by strange, blue-white light. It seemed so strong, and yet so sad: if such a thing can be possible in describing light.

The two ran off to find the light, which led them deep into the forest.

They ran deeper into the night, always keeping the glow ahead of them. It led them into a forest clearing, where a puddle of blue-white-glowing water sat, which was apparently the source of the light. There were no signs of anything else in the area.

"I ain't never seen water that glowed like that." Dorothy said.

As they stood by the puddle, wondering who or what created it, they saw the water rise up into a sphere that was slowly floating up and came to rest just over their heads.

It summarily popped, putting out the light and dropping something on the earth. Ozma lowered the point of the sword to the ground and saw that there was a letter. The two knelt down to read it, by the light of the sword, and saw that it was in the flowing yet messy handwriting of the one they had been seeking.

Glinda.

The note was bare of any sign or script, and only had one cryptic phrase written hastily across it.

"Find the Golden Mirror."

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**(AN: I held back on publishing this chapter since I do not have permission to use Leyen the Good Witch of the South from LeiaEmberblaze's tale. I will have to contact her again to see if I can do so. I thought that story was good, and want to, at least, have Leyen referenced - obviously not appear since she is dead -. Keep watching for more updates and remember to review. Your ideas may appear as part of this epic tale.)**


	4. Wonders Nine

**(AN: Here is a little back-story to one of the main plot-devices in my tale. It is important, so pay attention. Enjoy)**

**Chapter 3 – Wonders Nine**

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The next day, the young ladies were relaxing from their adventures in the forest in the lap of Gilikinese luxury. After the event, they made their way back to Shiz, where the head master was more than happy to let them stay in one of the private suites reserved for the students who could pay the most.

The two were now lying upon two beds in a room somewhere on the third floor of the girl's dormitory, Crage Hall. The lights were on and they were examining the note over and over.

"Nothing," Ozma said for perhaps the tenth, or maybe twentieth, time. "It still says the same dashed thing!"

"What is the Golden Mirror?" Dorothy asked.

"No idea," Ozma returned.

"I heard of a Golden Cap," she said. "The Wicked Witch of the West used it to command the Flying Monkeys to do three wishes of hers. When she died, I used the Cap to rescue my friends and return us to the Emerald City. Afterwards, Glinda used it to send my friends to where they would rule and then gave the Cap to the King of the Flying Monkeys, freeing them from its spell."

"I wonder what it could mean." Ozma said, returning to the note.

After a few more seconds of being bored by the seemingly meaningless letter, the two ladies left their dorm and decided they would make the return-journey to the Emerald City. So much for nothing.

As they walked towards the Main Hall, they saw a familiar face speaking with the old headmaster. It was their Insect-friend, the Woggle-Bug, and he seemed rather frustrated about something.

"Hey, Mr. Woggle-Bug." Dorothy greeted. "How's it goin'?"

"Bad!" exclaimed the magnified Insect. "You remember the school I started?"

"School? Ha!" the head master of Shiz scoffed. "This is a school. What this Insect speaks of is a lie and a sham."

"Watch your tongue, sir." Ozma said to the head master. "This Woggle holds a place of honor with me, your ruler. To insult him, you insult me."

"That is not my intent, your Ozness," the head master said. "However, a school is where young, brilliant minds come to be part of higher society. The Woggle-Bug's 'school' is a mockery. As if education were something you could ingest like water."

"But where's the fun," the Woggle-Bug asked. "In sitting in a dark classroom, studying things that nobody really cares about? My Athletic College is the greatest achievement in all of Oz!" The Insect's chest puffed out proudly.

"A school where students do nothing but gymnastics?" the head master said incredulously. "And then you feed them those magic pills, to give them all the book-knowledge they don't spend their time studying!"

"That's my problem!" the Insect said with vigor. "My stock has gone dry! All my pills are gone! And what's more, there's another problem." He turned his beady eyes to the head master of Shiz. "You took them! You must have!"

"Me?" mocked the head master. "Why would I bother with a crock like those pills? They're addictive, and no substitute for good, old-fashioned studying."

"Add-what?" Dorothy asked.

"They're habit-forming," the head master said. "If you take one of those pills, you'll soon find yourself unable to regurgitate – spit out – the knowledge you learned unless you have more. Like taking pinnoble leaves for the brain."

"You seem to know a fair bit about my pills, head master!" the Woggle-bug said, leaning up, his eyes even more beady than before.

"I analyzed them back when you told me about your plan for a school!" protested the head-master.

"So what's the problem?" Ozma asked.

"I told you!" the Insect stated. "All the pills are gone! The students have no more. They're just a bunch of muscle-bound but brainless little children now…children in grown-up bodies." The Woggle-Bug sat down upon the pavement and small tears eked out of his beady eyes.

"I'm sure the Wizard'll fix you up a new batch." Dorothy suggested.

The head master turned to address his ruler. "Your Ozness, how may I help you?"

"Have you ever heard of this?" she asked, presenting to him the letter. The old man examined it, but then his eyes bugged out and he gasped.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Glinda the Good Witch, I believe." Ozma said. "If you look at the 'g' in 'Golden', its styled as she did her 'g's."

The old man laughed.

"Now why would Glinda be telling you about myths and legends like this." He wondered aloud.

"It's not real?" Ozma asked.

"Of course not." His response was not jovial in the slightest, but more alerting.

"But the Golden Cap is real!" Dorothy added.

"What makes you think they're connected?" The head master asked suspiciously.

"I don't know," Dorothy asked. "I just have a feelin'. Besides, this here's a fairy-world, for Pete's sake! All sorts of strange things that don't happen where I came from are commonplace here. There ain't even half a reason why this Golden Mirror thinga-magig is real?"

The head master sighed.

"You'd better follow me." He said. He then dismissed the frustrated Woggle-Bug and led Ozma and Dorothy into his study.

It was an old study, owned by the previous head masters and head mistresses of Shiz since its establishment. Many old, graying paintings hung about the walls. There were also many papers upon the tables and desk. The usual sort of thing you'd find in the office of a man of higher society.

The headmaster sat down, pulled open a secret compartment that was hidden behind a painting of a very fish-like old woman with a great powdered wig on her head. Within the compartment, there was an old bottle full of some clear liquid and a book. The headmaster brought these out and set them on his desk.

"There is a story, told in Oz as a fairy-tale," the headmaster began. He opened the book, which was a very old copy of _The Oziad_, Oz's epic myth-tale. He thumbed through the leaves of the book and came to one page. It showed nine things floating in mid-air: a cap, a helmet, a sword, a cloak, a dagger, a mirror, a belt, a breast-plate and a ring. These, it seemed, were made of gold, and were shining as brightly as the sun.

"In the old days of Oz," he continued. "There were nine Golden wonders. These were objects of great magical power. The cap had a binding spell that forced the slave to carry out three wishes from the master. The helmet granted invisibility, the power to be unseen, at will. The sword was the most powerful, for it could cut through anything: stone, wood, gem, flesh or magic. The cloak gave the wearer the ability to move faster than the wind.

"The ring could restore three people back from the dead. The breastplate made the wearer invincible to all arm. The dagger is the most peculiar, for it could kill anything, and had enough power to break the power of the other Wonders. It's a rather fascinating concept, whoever created them must have thought it thoroughly…"

"What does the Mirror do?" Ozma insisted.

The old headmaster pointed to an oval-shaped golden object floating among the others.

"Along with the sword…" he said, pointing to the sword, which was at the right hand of the mirror. "…and the breastplate…" He pointed to the left-hand. "The Golden Mirror was one of the most sought-after of the Golden Wonders. It had the power to reveal anything and everything, be it past, present or future: no spell, enchantment, distance or cloud can hide from the Mirror's eye what the seeker would discover."

"Why would Glinda ask us to find the Golden Mirror?" Ozma asked. "She has the book in her study which shows her everything that's happening in Oz while it's happening."

"And you've got that tapestry that shows you everything happenin' in Oz as well." Dorothy reminded her friend.

As if on cue, the letter that Glinda sent from Quadling fell out of Ozma's hand-bag. Reaching down daintily to pick it up, she noticed something.

"This letter is atrocious!" she exclaimed. "Look at all the huge letters everywhere!"

"Let me see, if I may." The headmaster offered. Ozma nonchalantly gave him the letter, which he examined. "Well, if I'm reading this correctly, it seems as though Glinda's lost her magic book."

"I don't believe it," Ozma said.

"Believe it or not," the headmaster added. "That's what Glinda says. And if we can't trust Glinda the Good, who can we trust?"

There was silence as they took in his message.

"Now," he said. "If I may continue, it is said that whoever wields all nine of the Wonders will be truly invincible. However…" He suddenly stopped, and looked down at the letter upon his desk. He looked up at the two young ladies, then back down to the letter, then back up to them.

"You're trying to fool me?" he asked.

"Never!" Ozma said incredulously.

"Here it is, right here!" he said, waving the letter. "Glinda wants you to find the Wonders! Why then are you playing dumb?"

"How dare you!" Ozma shrieked.

"Your pardon, my ruler, but you should be out there looking for the Wonders!" He held up the letter. "This is proof enough that Glinda left you two ladies with a quest, one of tantamount importance."

"I thought you said them Wonders was fake." Dorothy wondered aloud.

"They should be!" he all-but shouted. "No one should wield that kind of power, especially all together."

"Where are they now?" Ozma asked.

"No one knows," the old headmaster said, sitting down. "They've passed into myth…" His eyes then settled on Dorothy. "Until you came to Oz over a hundred years ago."

"Me?"

"I've done some research," he said. "And from what I've gathered, at least one of the Wonders was discovered. Fortunately, the power of that Wonder was broken by you and the Lady Glinda."

"Wait, what?" Dorothy asked. "I did what?"

"The Golden Cap!" the exasperated man said.

"Who discovered it?" Ozma asked.

"The Wicked Witch of the West." Was his answer.

Dorothy almost screamed in shock. Ozma jumped when she heard her friend shriek so, and the headmaster, shaking his graying head, opened the bottle and began to drink from it.

"But she's dead!" Dorothy insisted. "She can't do no harm to nobody!"

"Can she?" the headmaster said, putting the bottle down.

"I mean, she can't, can she?"

"If one had the Golden Ring," the old man said. "Not even death itself would withhold its prisoners from the bearer."

"Who was this witch?" Ozma asked. "I've never heard of her, only rumors."

"Then you know as much as anyone else does," the old man said. "But I can't help you there. I was living underground – in hiding – during her lifetime. I was a professor's assistant, but didn't actually teach. There's not really any history regarding the Witch, I'm afraid. A pity, it would make for an interesting read nonetheless.

"I think that, perhaps, she found the Golden Cap in her travels, tossed aside by the previous owner who had used up the wishes, and used it on her Flying Monkeys. I fear also that she may have been in contact with another one of the Wonders. Rumors abounded about her having one black, beady eye that always remained awake and could see everything. I doubt she was one-eyed, but I do think she possessed a kind of sight beyond sight that allowed her to see what was going on in Oz. Maybe one of the lesser Golden Wonders, such as the Mirror."

He then turned to the two young ladies.

"I want you to go to your homes and forget what you heard here today." He said, pointing at them each in turn. "It's business you shouldn't be meddling in! Too big for the likes of you." He dismissed them and then returned to his drink.

"Well, _**that**_ was helpful." Dorothy said sarcastically.

"Do you remember where the witch lived?" Ozma asked Dorothy.

"Some castle in the Winkie country. Why d'you wanna know?"

"I was thinking," she began. "After we return to the Emerald City, we can take the Sawhorse and go visit it, just to see if we can find anything there."

"I don't know, Ozma."

"Glinda gave us a job to do," the girl-ruler said. "Shouldn't we do our part to the one who's helped us so many times in the past?"

* * *

They were gone now. Long gone. It was nighttime already, and the old headmaster of Shiz was finishing the last of his bottle. He was now ready to pass out, but something kept him awake.

Then there was a sound of boots upon the floor.

The old headmaster laughed aloud to his "guest."

"I'm ready for you, you bastard!"

There was a flash of green light.

And suddenly, all was still.

* * *

**(AN: Cliffhanger! Don't worry, you'll find out what happens soon enough. In case you're wondering, there was a Golden Cap in the Oz series, and I decided to expound upon it and make it part of a string of very powerful artifacts. As for the Woggle-Bug, he is an original character from L. Frank Baum's Oz series, as is his school and the way he "teaches" his students. And no, Ozma is not forgetful, she's just really stupid. I designed her after the Bourbon dynasty of the French monarchy: not exactly evil, just uninformed and aloof. She's also in denial once the rubber meets the road. You'll find out what I mean soon enough.)  
**


	5. Kiamo Ko

**(AN: It's been a while since I've updated this story. As I said before, I have a LOT of re-writing/editing to do with this tale. For instance, there were a lot of inconsistencies early on as I imagined Ozma and Dorothy as heroic characters, then read the Oz Series and rewrote them as Bourbon-esque pansies; that was why I originally had Ozma with a sword. It will be important later on, I assure you.)**

**(Furthermore, since you won't get to see the roughest draft, I will tell you just now that a lot will probably be cut from the rough draft and the published version of this tale. For instance, there was supposed to be a little bit of a battle in Munchkinland due to a rebellion of sorts by a rich Munchkin who was secretly working for the bad-guy. I cut this out for several reasons: 1] it really seemed to just drag the opening action along too much, 2] it contributed almost nothing to the main plot, and 3] a lot of the Oz series characters act out of character by going to battle. Therefore I exorcised that scene, and have had to rewrite this scene as well, which is why it took me a while to get it together)**

**(PS - Thank you, LeiaEmberblaze for reviewing my tale. It will get better, I promise you)**

**(Now sit back, relax and enjoy the story)**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Kiamo Ko  
**

Ozma and Dorothy did not forget what they had seen. Their friendship to Glinda meant too much for them to simply forsake her when she was missing. So, after they finished their business in Shiz, they took the Gilikin Railway back to the Emerald City. During the reign of the Wizard, it did not reach all the way there. However, Ozma ordered that it be completed in order to fully connect all of Oz.

After disembarking from the train station, the two young women hailed a cab to take them to the Emerald Palace. Almost as soon as they had started hailing, one came to their aid. Being the ruler of Oz definitely had its advantages. The two climbed into a large green cab pulled by a snow leopard. The driver did not ask for faire: he had the honor of escorting his ruler and her best friend, a free ride was the least he could give them.

The Emerald Palace had definitely grown since the days of the Wizard. Back then it was little more than a domed amphitheater with a few side rooms and secret chambers. During the reign of Shell Thropp, the Emperor Apostle, who often ruled while the Scarecrow was away with his friends, the palace became much larger. At last, when Ozma herself returned to the throne, it became positively huge. The throne room, where the Wizard had once appeared to Dorothy as a great floating head, was still as large as it had been, though now there was a throne of purple inlaid with gold, upon which the Ozma sat.

The cab pulled up to the North Gate of the palace, and drove around to the main courtyard, where the two princesses were dropped off and the cab-driver kindly paid his respects before going off into the City to pick up other folks.

It was a spectacle and a wonder to behold. A twelve-foot wall of gold-bars and green-brick posts surrounded this magnificent estate, which was accessed by four gates of golden bars at the north, south, east and west sides of the gate: the "O-within-the-Z" insignia of Oz being imprinted upon each gate. A great central emerald dome marked the largest of the halls, and clusters of smaller domes and dome-topped spires branched off from it like the roots of a tree. The main courtyard of the palace was in the front lawn - the Garden - and paved with gold bricks rather than with green-bricks. A fountain there was in the center of the courtyard - the Fountain of Oblivion, in fact - which had in its center a golden statue of Lurline, which had water pouring from her open palms, cascading through her fingers and down into the pool below.

Having arrived, the two girls came to the door of the palace.

Two guards drew the doors open and a little girl, no older than thirteen, probably, ran out at their sight. She was clad in a green dress with a golden OZ-symbol upon the skirt. This was Jellia Jamb, the chief of the maidservants at the Emerald Palace.

"Your Majesties," she greeted. "We're glad you returned safe and sound."

"'We?'" asked Ozma.

"Your friends told me to tell you this when they saw you on the tapestry," she stated. "They've been keeping an eye on your progress."

"That's thoughtful o'them." Dorothy said.

"That's my tapestry!" Ozma insisted. "I don't want others to use it." She then turned to Ms. Jamb. "Please take this to the Wizard." She handed the little maid-servant the sword.

"Why did you take a sword with you, Your Majesty?" asked Jellia. "I thought you couldn't even kill anything bad."

"That's true." Ozma added. "I'm not sure why I brought it. Maybe just to placate the Wizard. After all, everyone in Oz knows who I am, and everyone loves me too much to hurt me."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Jellia nodded reverently, and then took off into the palace to be polished.

It was the domed structure that was largest from the outside. A large throne of emerald, laid with many silk and satin cushions of silver sat at the middle section of the wall facing the main door. On either side were thrones, no less magnificent, where Dorothy and the Wizard would sit. Many other chairs there were, but no one was present to occupy those chairs.

In fact, the throne room was quite empty.

Which made the loud crash from the next room especially loud.

The two girls opened the door which lay behind the Wizard's throne and walked down the stairs inside to the Wizard's laboratory.

This was a rather new installment, made by the Wizard at his own request so that he could have a place other than his room wherein he could make his inventions. It was cluttered, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, all on the floors and hanging from the walls with inventions of every kind, shape, size and color. There was little room in the small foot-path for the two girls to make their way through this clutter, but they did and they found the Wizard at work.

"Oh, did I startle you?" the humbug Wizard asked. "I'm sorry! It's just that I happened to knock a shelf full of inventions onto Tik-Tock. It made quite a noise!"

The Wizard made his best efforts to fix this problem, and even brought the mechanized man back to its feet. The shelf was replaced, but Tik-Tock's thought, speech and action functions had all wound down. Dorothy did not hesitate to crank the machine man back to functioning.

"Oh, hel-lo." the monotonous voice of Tik-Tock greeted, with a flick of its copper mustache. "It is good to see you have re-turn-ed safe-ly, my mis-tress."

Dorothy patted Tik-Tock on his copper hat, and the machine man helped the Wizard repair the accident the latter made.

"Your Ozness?" Ozma asked, trying to keep watch on the little humbug as he tinkered about his work-place.

"Please, I'm not the ruler of Oz anymore! I'm just your garden-variety, corn-fed humbug from Omaha." explained the Wizard with a little bit of a nerdy smile.

"Well, I need you to serve for me as ruler for a while, Oz." Ozma said. "I'm going to be heading to the Winkie Country for a while, do some searching for a magical item."

"Really?" asked the Wizard. "I thought magic was banned in Oz."

"So it is, but this is very important: Glinda asked me to. I need you to remain in charge of Oz while I'm away."

"Anything you wish, your Majesty. However, you might be late for the celebration of Lurlinemas, which is soon coming."

"Can't miss that, can I now?" Ozma said a little pleasantly.

"Come-again-what-mass?" asked Dorothy, who hadn't heard of it a lot.

"Every December 24th," Ozma began. "We celebrate the Coming of Lurline to Oz, when the Fairy Queen brought life to this fairy world. It's the biggest day in Oz, next to Yuletide which comes on the following day. It's especially celebrated here in the Emerald City, where all the people celebrate it in the most extravagant ways."

"Oh, I remember!" Dorothy said. She had heard about this holiday before, but she never really celebrated it since she was a foreigner to Oz.

"I've never missed it in my entire life!" Ozma exclaimed. "Even as a boy, I celebrated as much of it as I was able to. I'll have to make sure I get back to the Emerald City in time."

"Well, then, shouldn't you be going as soon as possible?" asked the Wizard.

"Shouldn't we eat lunch first?" Dorothy asked.

* * *

Several minutes later, the chefs and cooks brought out food for the noon meal. The two princesses ate quickly, and then readied themselves for their journey.

Dorothy's gingham - though, admittedly, it was made of Ozian fabric and was not the original one she wore on her first journey here - she wore, along with a pair of traveling boots. Ozma wore a green traveling dress, with gold borders, and wore her hair loosely down her back. She did not wear the sword, because she felt that she had absolutely no reason to be armed.

With them went the Sawhorse. He was especially upset that he wasn't brought along during the first trip, and so she made up by having him come along this time. He was tireless, and could carry both Dorothy and Ozma all the way to the Vinkus without any resting.

In fact, the dear wooden horse boasted that he could get them all the way to the Emperor's tin castle in less than two hours.

True to his boast, the horse shot off from the Emerald City like a lightning bolt and arrived in the foothills of the Greater Kells in less than two hours. They were a little upset that they couldn't stop by the Tin Woodsman's castle, for he had returned there after the banquet, but they had a job to do.

Atop the mountains, dark brown against the golden fields of the Vinkus, sat the black castle of Kiamo Ko: a ghost of its former glories.

The two girls dismounted from the Sawhorse's back and made their way up the rugged mountain-side towards the castle. The Sawhorse, whose immobile legs could not make it up the mountain, had to wait at the bottom for their arrival. They came up to the great gate, and found that it was open. Warily, they made their way into the castle.

* * *

There was not a lot to see in Kiamo Ko. Anything that may have been extremely useful or helpful had long before been scavenged: perhaps by animals, Winkies or by someone...or something else. The rooms were dusty and the hallways were dry and lifeless.

After an hour of searching the ground level and the second storie, nothing had turned up at all. They walked up the main stairs to the third story, but found the doors were locked. Fortunately, the doors were also so old and decaying that they could be easily pushed open. Thus they came at last to the highest storie of the castle.

It had barely changed. The hallway leading to the West tower was as clean as Dorothy had left it; she having worked as the Witch's scrub maid when she was captured here. The winding staircase that led to the West tower Dorothy would not let them enter. It was too full of memories, she said, for her to bother opening. The other rooms had precious else in them: a few minor oddments that meant nothing to them, but had probably meant something to the Witch.

Nothing of gold, though.

"Well, there ain't nuthin' here." Dorothy said at last.

"Are you sure we can't check the Western tower?" Ozma said with curiosity.

"I'm sure." Dorothy nodded vigorously.

"What about the East wing?"

The two ladies then made their way to the eastern section of the third floor. Here they saw a wide bed-room, that had belonged to whoever owned this castle prior to the Witch. At the farthest end there was a fake wall, not part of the original design of the castle. It had been noticeably removed from out of its place, revealing a narrow, winding staircase that led up to a tower.

Very carefully, the two ladies made their way up the stairs. It must lead to the highest tower in Kiamo Ko, for the stairs seemed to wind on up forever. However, there was soon an ending to the stairs.

They opened upon a tower, with a window looking out to the east, large enough for a grown man to walk out upon the parapet below. The room itself was circular, with a small table in the center. On said table was a glass ball about the size of a small melon: it stood on an ornately carved pedestal of gold. It was rather curious, for it did not reflect the room or the two ladies as they entered it. It was black, like fog at midnight, and an untold depth brewed within.

"Remember what that head-master feller said?" Dorothy asked.

"Huh?" the Ozma said, roused from looking at the scenery outside the window.

"'Bout the witch havin' one eye 'n all?" Dorothy added.

Ozma let out a sudden gasp.

"Could it be?" she asked in awe.

"I remember this here glass bein' in her castle." Dorothy said. "But I never gave it much thought."

"So the glass ball is the Wonder?" Ozma asked.

"No, Ozma." Dorothy said with a sigh. "They're made of gold. This here is glass."

"Oh, right. So its inside the glass ball. Well, how do we get it out?"

Dorothy grabbed one of the legs of the pedestal and turned it over, sending the glass ball to the floor. It rolled a little, but did not break. Curious, Dorothy knelt down and picked it up with her hands, hoping to smash it on the floor again to try to break it.

The rest of the room became dark. The ball itself seemed to be the one emitting the darkness into the room: like a great celestial sieve that had torn, letting out the night prematurely into the sun-lit world. Dorothy's heart began racing, for she felt that she had done something terrible by taking up the accursed ball. She could no longer see Ozma, or the rest of the tower: it was all blackness.

A light shone from its depths.

All at once, she began to see something within the depths of the glass ball. At first it was murky, like a muddy river, and nothing could be made out clearly. Then the light shone again, and the image became crystalline clear.

Images, she corrected herself. Images out of her past, or a past in which she had taken a considerable role.

A small girl - seven maybe - was kneeling beside two gravestones in a cemetery. Two older people, a man and a woman, stood by solemnly as the little girl said her farewells to the parents she never knew. Dorothy felt so sad for the girl, and wanted with all her being to reach out and comfort her as best as she could. But the image shifted.

Three years had passed, and that same girl was walking home from school in the second image. She was alone now, and seemed to be crying. No one gave her any notice, though. She sat down with her back to the white school-house, and languished in her loneliness.

The image passed and a green-skinned face, contorted in strange waves of hatred, anger, surprise and madness glared back at her. The broom was on fire, sparks fell on to her black dress. The innocent little twelve-year-old girl seized the bucket of water and threw it. A hideous scream came from the green woman, who held her hands before her face. They were melting away, as was her face. The figure reached out at the little girl, but its leg broke and it crumbled to the floor, slowly shrinking as the water ate away at her body like acid, face-inward and feet down-ward. It made no difference; the old witch would be gone shortly.

A new scene appeared. That twelve-year-old girl - having remained unchanged over all the years - now sat alone in a prison cell of black crystals. Upon her feet were the silver slippers - how ever did she find them again - and she wore a dress of blue and white velvet and silks. But she was crying. Not just a few tears: true weeping. Hope had failed her at last. All the best laid plans had failed, and there was nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable end.

But the scene disappeared, and the gleam of golden light returned. Only this time it seemed a little different. An eerie glow of red eyes came out of the darkness, and a voice spoke forth.

**"YOUR TIME HAS COME TO AN END!"**

The voice faded away slowly, but the words remained in Dorothy's head as if branded by a hot iron. Yet the glow of golden light gave her hope, some kind of hope. It was like the light of the sun, which always was a sign of hope in the darkest hours.

No longer aware of her surroundings, she reached out at the light. She half-expected that she could grab hold of its warm rays and, by it, gain some kind of deliverance. Something warm was enclosed in her hand as she grasped the light.

Even as she did, the light returned.

"Dorothy, are you alright?" Ozma asked, running over to her friend's side. Dorothy suddenly realized that she was lying on her side, on the floor of the castle.

She also realized that she was bleeding.

Her hands had been sliced up like paper by the shattering of the glass orb in her hand.

In her hands, though, blood-stained yet warmer even than her blood, was a small, oval-shaped looking glass.

It was gold.

"You found it!" Ozma said ecstatically. She took the Golden Mirror, and was amazed to discover that it gave off a great warmth. Not like a burning fire or a heated iron, but an all-embracing warmth that made her fingers surge with power. Ozma smiled.

Then she looked down at her friend's hands and cried out in shock.

Suddenly, there was another sound at the door. Behind them, someone was approaching from up the stairs. Just beyond at the stairs they had just came up, they saw a large shadow set against the stairs coming their way with a frightening _pat_ of a foot and a _clank_ of something metal.

* * *

**(AN: Cliffhanger! And surprise surprise - Turtle-Heart's glass orb was actually holding a Wonder! I haven't really gotten around to explaining how that came about, but I will, don't worry.)**


	6. The Traveler from Ev

**(AN: Here we introduce the third OC. For those who might be wondering, no, it is not a Gary-Stu at all. He's been affected by vengeance and looses his temper, and he's half-a-man at that! I wanted a strong, male character in my story because in the Oz series, Dorothy's friends who are men aren't strong characters - some of them are positively baby-like in their mewing timidity - and in Wicked, the males are either weak or antagonists of the female characters. Ergo, I wanted a strong, heroic male character. Enjoy)**

* * *

**Chapter Five - The Traveler from Ev**

The figure came into sight and they saw that it was a man, tall and broadly built, roughly middle-aged and wearing the uniform of a general. He wore about his loins a goodly belt of black leather, which had a silver buckle that was shaped with the V-within-the-E symbol of the Kingdom of Ev. The strangest thing they noticed about him was that he seemed to be limping.

The reason why was clear: he was basically half-a-man. An iron boot stuck out from the bottom of the right leg of his trousers, a metal arm came out of his right shoulder, and a metallic, circular patch sat over his right eye: in the midst of which sat a single amethyst gem that shone like light. They noticed that the arm was not covered in casing, so the clock-work elbow, the gears that moved the fingers and the cogs around the wrist and elbow were exposed for all to see.

"Excuse me," he said. "I saw a light coming from the tower. I thought someone was up here."

"Who are you?" Ozma asked.

"Oh, right. Introductions first, sorry." The man then clumsily got down on one knee and lowered his head.

"I am Evemar Kloxolk, loyal servant of the Royal Family of Ev and General of the Evian Royal Army."

"You're from Ev?" Ozma asked. "But how are you here? There's a spell that's supposed to make all of Oz invisible: just track-less desert for miles around."

"To be totally honest, I'm not sure how I got here either." he added. "I was sent by the Royal Family to ask for help from our ally in Oz. How exactly I got through this shield you speak of, I really don't know."

"Well, then, General," Ozma said. "I am the Ruler of this land: Ozma Tippetarius. However, as you can see, we're not in a place to hold a meeting. Would you oblige to return with us to the Emerald City?"

"Indeed? You'd let an old fool like myself go with you, the ruler of Oz?"

"Certainly. You came to Oz with a purpose, and you will stay with us until you have accomplished that purpose."

He nodded, and then rose to his feet. The girls had a few moments to take in how he looked. He was dressed in a deep, black velvet uniform jacket with silver buttons and purple colors on the shoulders and borders: the purple was adorned with the V-within-the-E symbol of Ev, in silver. He had long, black hair which had begun to go gray and keen, hazel brown eyes, a thin nose and skin a light shade of brown. On his belt, they noticed right off, was a sword about as long as a Munchkin would be tall: that is to say, roughly three feet. It was green-bladed, with ornate black markings carved into the blade.

Together, they walked back down the stairs and out of the castle.

Ozma kept the Golden Mirror close at hand in the "pocket" of her dress.

A bumpy Sawhorse-ride later, and they were now back at the Emerald City.

And just in time for Lurlinemass.

* * *

While the city was being arrayed for the coming festival, Ozma sat upon her throne, with Dorothy at her right hand, hearing out the tale of the General from Ev.

"I was born into a rich family in Ev during the time of the Royal Family. When the Nome King kidnapped the Royal Family of Ev, his armies also, in spite, destroyed many of those connected closely with the Royal Family. My parents were among those, and the Nomes took all my wealth with me. I would not have that, so I chose to follow the Nomes into their underground caverns.

"That was when I met Muugh, the Nome who had sympathy. He saw a child, brimming with vengeance, who was marching on towards his death. Rather than hurt or hinder me, Muugh set my feet on the path of knowledge. Taking me into his cavern deep beneath the earth, he began to teach me of the intelligent things of life. Many of the clever designs of the earth, as well as the creatures that dwell therein I learned while I was in cohort with the dear old Nome.

"But my heart was always born toward the surface world. So, when I had come of age, I bade him farewell and undertook a journey throughout the worlds to find my special destiny. Many years of my life it claimed, and when I return to Ev, I was a rich man, and a warrior as well, and - hopefully - wiser for the wear and tare I endured."

"Tell me about the journeys you took!" Ozma commanded.

"Using a glider that I had constructed, I was able to fly to the islands of Regos and Coregos. Their rulers and peoples, who were quite barbaric, set sail for another island far away. I was drafted into the army because I was young and dumb and itching for a fight. When the raiders were pushed back into the sea, I deserted and lived on the island for a time. The people were friendly, and I was allowed to stay for as long as I wished.

"But I knew that my future was not here, on some island where the people gather pearls and watch for the second coming of the Regos-Coregos alliance. I built myself a ship and sailed once again from their lands and into the oceans. While I was at sea, I entered upon a storm that swept me away to a rather curious land that I have never seen before.

"There was no magic in this land, but there was something deep down inside of it - I can barely say what, for I didn't understand it fully myself - that was powerful. I learned much of this new world, but I found that there were limitations here that were not to fit with me...I can't fully explain it. Fortunately, my ship was not damaged, and I could return to my land without incident.

"I journeyed to Ix, and became a vassal of the ever-young Queen Zixi. For a good long time I lived there, keeping her realm safe as its protector. During my services, I learned of honor, selflessness, the deeper things of life that the simple ignorantly reject as inconsequential in order to stave off the inevitable truth. The wealth of knowledge I gathered there was copious, and I gained some riches as well.

"I came upon a dwarf who had worked emerald mines in the north-eastern land of the Glikkus in Oz, and it was from there that I learned about the times and troubles the people endured under the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. A tyrant more-like he was, from what I had been told. I thought that I could go to Oz and stir up a peaceful transition...remove the Wizard from power and..."

"You plotted sedition against the Wonderful Wizard of Oz?" exclaimed Ozma incredulously.

"He needed to be stopped, and the people were suffering. But when I came to Oz, I found that everyone was quite content with living under a despot. The Animals, who suffered the worst at the Wizard's hand, were the most unwilling to offer aid to a human, or accept aid from one. I went to the Four Witches, the only other powers in Oz that I believed could be of any use: the Good Witch of the South said that she was not powerful enough to orchestrate a coup, since her powers were constantly to the people of Munchkinland, in alleviating their sufferings under the Wicked Witch of the East.

"The Good Witch of the North would not have me, for she was too busy with the high-life of society and the glitter and limelight of fame. I shuddered at the prospect ..."

"Wait, did you just say Glinda was not powerful enough?" Ozma interrupted with a sickly-sweet titter.

"No, your Ozness." Kloxolk added. "The Good Witch of the South was another. At the time, the one you speak of, Glinda, was Good Witch of the North."

"I thought Glinda was the Good Witch of the South." Ozma argued.

"That may be now," he stated. "But when I met her, she was the Good Witch of the North. How that happened, I do not now know.

"However, getting back to my story, I shuddered at the prospect of conjoining myself to, what was rumored to be, evil, but I had little choice in the matter. The Witch of the East - wicked in truth - would have nothing to do with me because I did not share her beliefs, which I found that she kept them as a rule-book for the little Munchkins and not for herself. The Wicked Witch of the West - the old, green hermitess of the west, more like - refused to accept me until I had called on her castle at Kiamo Ko nine times. But when I saw her with my own eyes, I would not ask for her help. I could tell - call it a birth-gift - just from looking into those big, piercing brown-black eyes of hers that she had a greater burden on her heart, one that had to be sorted through before I could burden her further.

"I took my leave and headed back out west toward the edge of Oz, and the desert. It was there that I saved a Roc from several village boys who had been throwing stones at it. In gratitude, the Roc - whose name was Kirriku - offered to bear me over the desert. I accepted, and I came at last back to Ix. I bade Kirriku farewell and began to return to my place here, but the queen gave me an official farewell. She said that I had to return to my own land. Giving me all the gifts I had gained in her land, she sent me on my way."

Ozma took time to take this all in, for it was a great load indeed.

At last she spoke: "That great, green-bladed sword...where did you get it from?"

"Muugh forged it for me himself, when I set out on my journey alone." answered Kloxolk. "It is forged from a green metal found deep beneath the earth - veridium, I believe it was called - that is stronger than hardened iron. Upon the blade, is carved my entire life story."

"How inspiring!" Ozma said, clapping her hands. More than before, Kloxolk thought, she looked like such an incompetent ninny.

"I use a bit of black-stone that Muugh gave me, which is the only thing that can even scratch veridium once it's hardened. So far, there's only a little bit on here, I hope to find a good end for those who out-live me to place thereon."

"Do you have a family?" she asked.

"No." he answered. "When I returned to Ev, I found it in the hands of a vain and silly princess named Langwidere, who spent all her time looking for pretty heads to wear on her neck, for she could take off her head and wear another one as one would, say, wear a hat." He paused, for Ozma and the very childish way in which she was now carrying herself, reminded him greatly of Langwidere.

"I was to be married, but the princess demanded the head of my wife, since she said that it would make a fine addition to her collection. I resisted, and she took the head anyway: and for good measure..." He indicated to the right half of his body, where all his clock-work prosthetics were. "She incapacitated me. I could do nothing for my darling, and it pained me to the bone to see her killed and be powerless to help her."

"How did you come by those cogs and gears?" Dorothy asked.

"I do not entirely know. I remember vaguely of losing consciousness and then waking up later, with these..." He waved at his arm. "Upon my body. I eventually learned how to use them, and left the Royal Palace of Ev for good.

"It seems that I had been in seclusion when you and your army - at least, what you in Oz call an army - saved the Royal Family of Ev. I came back, thinking that my life once again had a purpose. But, since there were no more wars to be fought, I was a useless tool, to be laid upon the shelf, entertaining dust and rust.

"Shortly afterward, the Nomes and their allies attacked Oz. I went into the underground kingdom of the Nomes to look for Muugh, and found him catatonic, almost sick as a dog..." Dorothy's little black dog Toto, who sat at her side, barked at this. "...and babbling on about the Southstairs. When he finally came to, he told me everything: about the disappearance of the Wizard and the return of Ozma. But all this gave to me was a sense of uselessness, until..."

"Until, what?" Ozma asked, almost with false interest.

"Until the Royal Family sent me on my mission."

"What was the nature of this mission?"

Kloxolk swallowed hard. This was the moment for which he had been sent from his homeland once again.

* * *

**(A/N: A lot of what was mentioned in the telling comes from the Oz series. Also, subtle nod to the confusion over Glinda/Locasta. Thank you very much MGM, you made my work twice as hard! Don't worry, I have a plan. And yes, the General's name is a palindrome. I meant for that to be. Please review, like, favorite, say something about it. I'd like to know how I'm doing, and maybe get some ideas/suggestions. They might appear later on)**


	7. The Name Every Ozian Knows to Fear

**(AN: Thought I'd begin with the telling forth of my tale, though I've been dropping hints of my villain in some of my other Oz/Wicked-related fan-fics. If you want the whole story, just ask for it in the review, or wait like everyone else for the story to be revealed and still review. lol. Anywho, this chapter is a bit short and hearkens on filler, but its needful for the explication of the story. Also, some bad things start happening now, but you won't find out what they are until the next chapter)**

* * *

**Chapter Six - The Name Every Ozian Knows to Fear**

Kloxolk cleared his throat and then began.

"Dark portents have appeared in the land, sea and sky around Ev. Crystal monoliths, black of color and cold to the touch, have been sighted around Ev. The largest of them, the first one ever to appear, was the size of a pine tree. It gave off a strangeness that no one could fathom, and all life and magic around them was eaten away. The Royal Family feared for war, which is why they have sent me to Oz."

"Then you can go back to the Royal Family of Ev and tell them that they've wasted their time," Ozma said firmly. "I don't engage in warfare at all - nasty, bloody business, hardly the work of a girl ruler of such stature such as myself. I do not send other people to fight battles in my name either, for I do not hold with warfare in the slightest. Even were all the armies of all the wicked things that have ever been or ever will be marshalled against Oz, I would sit on my throne with all the grace and poise of a true queen and await the end with dignity: help always comes to me in one way or another, I have nothing to fear."

"But your people, your Ozness!" Kloxolk begged. "You would suffer them to slavery and death?"

"Death?" she queried, punctuated by that nauseating giggle. "This is Oz, you foolish old man. As long as there is an Ozma in Oz, there will be no death. That was the mandate of Lurline, and it holds true to this day. So as long as I live, and I plan to, forever in fact, there is nothing to worry about.

"Besides, I'm beloved by all people and things in Oz. Who would ever want to hurt good, little me? Not to mention all of the cute, little people of Oz."

"There are some things in this world, your Highness, that want to see the world burn. They have no allegiance and no qualms about killing the innocent. It would be wise to prepare against such foes.

"Furthermore, your assumption that you are good is groundless, unless you prove yourself to be good. Goodness is the conscious choice to make a difference in the lives of others that will always lead them to joy and safety. More so, there is an even deeper problem with goodness: in order to be truly good, one must not think that they are good and do nothing more. They must act upon that goodness: they must do what is good, even if it hurts them in the process...no, ESPECIALLY if it hurts them in the process."

Ozma said nothing, but simply smiled off his remark.

"And now, if your Majesty will permit me," he said. "I would ask why you were in the West, so far from your home."

"What do you expect ME to know?" she asked. "I'm just the ruler."

"In that respect, everything."

She scoffed. "That's too much for any person to know! And I don't think we should be telling you at all."

"Please," he begged. "I have a feeling that it was very important. Perhaps it had something to do with the Nameless Terror."

Ozma suddenly stopped.

"What did you say?"

"I said, that whatever you were doing in the Western land, may have had something to do with the legend of the Nameless Terror. There are holy men in Ev who are preaching that his coming is imminent."

"Who is this Nameless one?" Dorothy asked curiously.

"You don't know? Every thing in all the worlds, Ev, Fliaan, Quox and Oz, know to fear the Nameless One and never speak his name, almost before they can speak at all."

"Well, I've never heard about anyone THAT powerful! It's probably just a myth, or some crazy superstition with no basis in reality." Ozma dismissed with a wave of her manicured hand.

"I wanna hear it." Dorothy piped up.

"Are you certain?"

She nodded in approval.

The General sighed, not fully wanting to reveal the story. It was a dark tale, one full of mystery and danger, and still posing a great and terrible threat to all the lands. However, he had to acquiesce their requests. He was their guest and they were his hosts.

"There is a name," he began. "One that every being knows to fear, as I said before. Nowhere is it spoken: it has not been spoken for over a thousand years, for the name was so dreadful that it became powerful enough to make he that bore the name almost invincible.

"It was not a title, for this person had many titles and many other names, some of which are just as bad as the one that none speak of but all fear. He has been called The-Nameless-Traitor, the Unspoken-Name, the Curse, the Plague, the Traitor, and many other vilifying synonyms.

"During the reign of one of the earlier Ozmas, this person's name was not feared. It was spoken, and with pride as well, for he was counted great among the courts of the Ozma. Her ear was ever to his counsel, by day and by night. The finest of all, he once was, so the stories say. But then he discovered something that would be his downfall."

"What was that?" asked Dorothy, who's attention was wrapped. Ozma seemed to be yawning in boredom.

"The Golden Wonders."

At this, both of the young girls listened with wrapped attention.

"How do you know of the Golden Wonders?" Ozma asked, now suddenly paying attention.

"They're practically famous in Ev. Some wonder if the Nome King's belt may have been the Golden Belt, but that rumor has never been substantiated. Still, I reckon they're known throughout the lands. Only in Oz is there presence little known. Anyway, the first rumor of them came to Oz that many years ago. The Nameless believed that the Wonders should be combined and passed into the keeping of the Ozma, who would use their powers for good to make Oz the greatest country of all.

"But the Ozma ruled against his decision: it was the first time she turned his advice down. She said that no one deserved to have that power, and she ordered him to seek out and destroy the Wonders, so that the worlds may be safe from the danger that kind of power possessed. What happened next is unclear, because there are many different versions about the fall of the Nameless. What is agreed upon is that he did not destroy them, but returned to the Ozma telling her that he did.

"He soon began to grow powerful, so much that people feared to even speak his name. The Ozma's advisers suggested she make an army and destroy the Traitor, but she refused..."

"A wise and good decision!" inserted Ozma.

"No, it was not!" Kloxolk all but shouted. "This much I know: when the Traitor was given lee-way, rather than stopped when Ozma had the chance, he spread his influence throughout the fairy worlds. Those who were not destroyed were overcome with despair and ended their lives by their own hands, or became his slaves. Soon he had gathered to himself an army, as well as power enough to destroy all the lands.

"Had Lurline not intervened when she did, all of the lands would have become a waste-land: an endless and barren waste of dead earth and rotting sky, where all live comes to an end."

The green of the room seemed to darken as these words of doom were spoken.

"But she intervened when the Ozma would not," Kloxolk continued. "And saved all the lands from a deadly threat beyond imagination. He had done great harm, but Lurline would not kill him, since it would make her no better. So she bound him in a secret place that no eye or magic could ever find, save that power which was bound to his name. We can only hope that the Wonders are destroyed, so that the Nameless Traitor may never take power again."

At this, there was quiet. The General had finished speaking. Ozma waved him away in her usual overly girlish manner, but there was something gnawing at her.

His words unnerved her to the bone. But this was irrational, she told herself: she had great power of her own, the kind that would sustain this world for many years to come. There was no reason for her to fear his words.

* * *

"Your Majesty," Kloxolk said at last. "I fear that if these terrible things that are happening in my land are not stopped, they will spill over into your world."

"Unlikely," Ozma said. "Glinda's spell keeps Oz hidden from all eyes."

"Yet here I am, in your world." he added.

"And you will leave shortly as well." she ended. "Your purpose is ended, since I will not march to war, nor order my people to do so in my stead."

A sudden rumble shook the earth. The doors of the palace were flung open, and out came Private Amby, looking as haggard as ever.

"Your Ozness!" he shouted. "Look! In the west!"

Ozma and Dorothy ran towards the northern wing of the palace, while Kloxolk hobbled his way out of the palace, and turned his eyes westward, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything past all the huge spires of green structures.

"Private," he said to the green-clad door-ward with the orange whiskers. "Is there a place with a good view on the west?"

"The North Tower, I believe." he responded.

"Take me there."

* * *

**(Epic cliffhangers! I've got a lot of re-writing to do, because there's some reintroduction of characters from Wicked as well as some sluggish parts which are important to the story later on that I need to polish. Just so you know, these events happen in our present time, almost one hundred years after The Wizard of Oz, though none of the Oz-characters aged after Ozma took power in The Marvelous Land of Oz. The time between then and The Wizard of Oz, however, is a different story. Since time doesn't move in Oz as it does in our world, a few months between Dorothy returning home and going back in Ozma of Oz are several years in Oz's history, and the events of _Son of a Witch_ and _A Lion Among Men_ have already happened. I'll try to make sense out of what I read therein - they were very confusing - and elaborate, though, obviously, nothing from _Out of Oz_ will be present since its not out yet. Keep waiting here for more updates and remember to review!)**


	8. It All Comes Down

**(AN: I thought I'd rush things along, since I had planned for anarchy to erupt later in the Emerald City, due to Ozma's poor ruling. However, I needed to make this story more explosive. It might end up being a lot shorter than the original, but I've still got three more "sagas" to add, though they'll definitely be shorter. Here we introduce another OC, who will be more important later on)**

* * *

**Chapter Seven - It All Comes Down**

It took the General a while to climb the stairs to the North Tower, and he was out of breath when he reached the highest level. Having clock-work limbs definitely had its draw-backs.

Looking out a window that looked upon the west, he saw a great black dot upon the horizon, slowly growing bigger.

"By the Unnamed God!" he gasped. "It's started already!"

"Excuse me," Private Amby said, waddling up behind him. "What's happening?"

"The war's begun." he said. "It started in Ev, and now those black crystals are growing in Oz! Once one appears, the others start sprouting up everywhere. They'll leech the magic out of this land, and Ozma will be powerless to do anything about it." The General then picked up a spy-glass from the nearby table and looked out upon the speck. In the scope, he saw that it was a castle of black crystal, three-times as big as Kiamo Ko, rising out of the ground like a weed.

"This can't be good." he said, throwing the glass back to the Private, who almost dropped it, startled by the sudden object being thrown his way.

"What does this mean?" asked the fearful Private.

"If an object of crystal that large is in existence, magic won't do us any good: at least in the West." The General then turned to the Private. "Summon Ozma, summon her friends and allies. We must have a meeting."

Private Amby almost fell over himself down the stairs to do as he was ordered.

* * *

All were assembling in the Throne Room. Amby sent Ms Jellia to bring General Kloxolk down to the meeting, and he obliged. A few minutes later, the haggard old general entered the now crowding throne room. A long, wooden table had been assembled, with Ozma seated at the head: Dorothy was at her right and the Wizard was at her left. On all the other chairs were their friends, but there was no place for Kloxolk to sit. At the foot, a large crowd of people were gathering.

Ozma waved to Private Amby, who stamped the butt of his musket upon the floor.

"Hear me, hear me!" she announced. "This meeting has been called to order. As girl-ruler of Oz, it is my duty to hear the word of my people." She indicated to the people before her.

The first one, a Munchkin in a fine, blue suit, walked forward.

"I'm Boq, the Ruler of Munchkinland." he said, in a voice that was surprisingly normal toned for one so small. "Something's happened to the fields and crops in our country. They've all just died. We have no idea what caused this, but something must be done or else we'll soon be out of food."

"Nonsense." Ozma said. "There's plenty of food in Munchkinland. Just use the reserves in the granaries."

"But, Your Majesty," Boq said. "The reserves are for ourselves. We can't give up those, or Munchkinland will starve!"

"Without your food, all of Oz will starve." she said, blinking and smiling off his objection. "Now do as you are told."

"Your Majesty," a black Horse with deer antlers protruding out of the head, spoke up. "My name is Khyorke of Gilikin. The people are wondering why Glinda hasn't returned to Gilikin. She's been gone too long!"

"We can't give up the reserves!" Boq added. "

"Who were those people who attacked us?"

"What did you say?" Ozma asked.

A Gilikinese woman in EC garb stepped forward.

"A few hours ago," she began. "Two figures in black flew into the Emerald City, came right up to the Palace. They stole Your Majesty's Love Magnet."

"What?" Ozma all but screamed.

"What about that castle?" the Hippogryph asked.

"What about Munchkinland?" Boq added.

"We must do something!" Kloxolk added.

Ozma ran out of the room in a huff. The others came up after her, first her friends and then the people. While they passed the Western Hall, the doors were flung open and the clank of nickel-plated boots resounded down the hall.

"Your Majesty," asked the Tin Woodsman. "What is that lovely castle that rose out of my land? The Winkies are afraid of it."

But Ozma did not stop, she was after something else.

They now entered the North Hall, which led to the North Tower. It was very purple down here, for it was also adorned with the architecture of Gilikin.

A sudden scream rent the air.

All ran to where it was heard.

In the largest room of the North Hall, Ozma had fallen to her knees, shaking all over. Directly in front of her was the wall on which her tapestry hung. Only now it was all slashed and cut up, that now it was just a ruined tapestry, that showed nothing more than vandalism.

"What is this?" Boq asked.

"This was the Ozma's tapestry." the Wizard said. "It showed her everything that was going on in Oz while it was happening."

"Spying on your people?" the Munchkin asked.

"Who would do this?" Ozma cried. Dorothy came to her side.

"Maybe someone who doesn't trust her own people so much, they'd spy on them!" the green-clad woman shouted.

"You didn't see this coming?" Boq asked infuriated. "You have a magical spying tapestry, to see all of Oz, and you didn't see this coming?"

"Stop, please." begged Ozma.

"You know what I see?" the Munchkin asked. "I see a liar and a cheat, who forced her people to love her while she spied on them from the safety of her castle."

"You're being very mean!" Dorothy shouted at the Munchkin.

"Who's going to stop me from speaking?" he challenged. "You?"

"I will!" Kloxolk strode over clumsily, drawing out his sword. "We will have order!" They listened to the word of the General.

"Now from what I heard, the worst is coming upon us." he began. Then, he pointed with his flesh arm to the west. "That castle is leeching the magic out of this land. Regardless of what Ozma has done, we must act to save our country before all is lost!"

"That's all you want, isn't it?" Ozma asked through tears, rising to her feet. "Blood and war and death! Well, I'll have none of this! You hear me? Even if all the armies of the Nome King himself were to descend upon Oz, I wouldn't so much as send my royal army to battle!"

"Your royal army," Boq said. "Consists of a bunch of officers who spend their time passing orders to each other, and one Private too cowardly to do anything."

Ozma stormed off, still crying and pouting fiercely.

"Well, look what you jus' did!" Dorothy shouted, glaring up at the tall General. "You bad, mean-tempered old grouch!" She kicked the General in his flesh shin and then walked after Ozma.

"I'd like to help." the Wizard added.

"Get lost." the General spat.

"But I..."

"I said get the hell out of my sight! You're just dying to get back into power to bring Oz back under your tyrany."

"I'm done with ruling, General." The Wizard said meekly. "You've got to believe me."

"Yeah? Well, I don't. Now leave before I have to throw you out myself."

The Wizard ran before the General's threat.

"Private, you have a duty to protect this city and its people." Kloxolk said, turning to Amby.

"Well, um...uh, I, well you see, that is I, uh...um...duh...you know, I really don't want to! I mean, I've got my lovely beard to look after! And besides, I've never loaded a gun before, or even wanted to!" He ran off faster than if a greyhound had seen a Fox, a small puddle where he had once stood.

"Coward!" The General growled. He then turned to the others. "Well, will you stand with me and save your land from this crisis?"

"I don't think I want to." mewed the Cowardly Lion with a bat of his huge eyes, looking very prissy and cat-like. "My knees shake at the thought of something bad happening in Oz, but I've got all the courage I need, so I don't need to prove myself."

Kloxolk hobbled over to the Lion and struck him on his nose.

"But you're a Lion!" he shouted. "The King of the Forest! Look what Ozma and her friends have done to you! They've turned you into a pussy-cat, who's content...no, who's happy with being a coward! Where is your pride? Where is your honor?" He grabbed the red bow from out of his mane with his flesh hand and tossed it aside. "Grow some, already!"

The Lion shook his huge head and then ran off, tail placed firmly between its two legs. His companion, the Hungry Tiger, who also had a bow in his fur, ran off after him, mouthing something about a baby.

As the General stood, looking upon the gaping crowd, some of them who were now walking off, calling him a cruel old man, he felt a wet, cold nose brush up against his flesh leg. Looking down, he saw a Fox.

"Excuse me," the Fox said. "My name is Ruddrix, and, well, if Ozma chooses not to see what's apparent to even the most blind Fliaan Bat, then, it looks like Oz is in for a tough time. For my part, I'd rather stay at home and protect my family. But the honor of Foxes demands that I stay here. I would hate to see my litter of pups live in fear."

"Your honor is commendable," Kloxolk said. "But your will is stronger. If honor did not bind you, would you choose to remain here?"

"To defend Oz? Yes." The Fox nodded.

"I'm with you too." Boq said. "Well, if that liar won't do anything, then its up to the people to save ourselves."

"Anyone else?"

"I'm with you." a Quadling woman in red armor said, stepping forward. "I've seen what happened in Ovvels, during the reign of Regent Shell. I've seen what the world is like without the Ozma - for what good she is - and if what you say is true, then while that castle stands, that world is coming back. I would sooner die than see that world live again."

"Count me in." the Hippogryph Khyorke stated.

Kloxolk looked about: there were precious few people around, only the two of Dorothy's companions, the Tin Woodsman and the Scarecrow, and those of the people who came that were willing to remain and fight for Oz.

"Well?" the General asked. "Are you fighting for Oz or hiding with your Ozma?"

"Um," the Tin Woodsman began. "Well, my heart tells me that I must decline. It would ruin the shine of my beloved nickel-plating." He then turned tail and walked off.

"And you?"

"Well," the Scarecrow said. "My brain is telling me that the people need help, and that you might have a good idea. But Ozma has never steered our people wrong before, and I'm not gonna believe that she'll do it now. So thank you, but no thank you."

And at that, the Scarecrow walked off, leaving the small group by themselves.

"So, boss," Boq said to Kloxolk. "What's the plan?"

What would the plan be, he asked himself. Do I tell them what we must do?

"Glinda should be here." the Quadling woman said. "She's the most powerful sorceress in all of Oz."

"We'll have to make due without her." Kloxolk said. "We must do something about that castle. As long as it stands, our worlds are threatened."

"If only I had an army of Animals." Khyorke said.

"That won't be of any avail to us," Kloxolk said at last. "If our Enemy finds the Golden Wonders."

A collective gasp came from those gathered about.

"Yes," he said. "This is what we're after. The Nameless One. Now let us do something, while he is still not awake."

And so, the Ozmoot began.

* * *

**(AN: For those who were wondering, Boq appeared in the original "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" book, and was different than the Tin Woodsman, as he is different from the Tin Woodsman in the book of Wicked. As such, Fiyero is not the Scarecrow - or is he? Please review. The action's starting to happen, and I've got another OC to reveal...but you won't find out until much later)**


	9. Unannounced

**(AN: After a little issue with the uploading, I've got a new chapter up. Since I'm cutting out a lot of the original, lagging material, I thought I'd bring in my original character earlier than before. Enjoy)**

* * *

**Chapter Eight - Unannounced**

"My friends," Kloxolk began. "It is with heavy hearts that we begin this meeting. None of us wish to see death, but that thing that has arisen in the West is threatening us all, and it lies in our hands to put an end to it."

They nodded solemnly.

"We need to get the people ready to defend themselves." he said. He pointed to the Quadling woman. "You, miss, what is your name?"

"Captain Aidan, sir."

"You're Quadling, right?"

"Yes, general."

"I need you to return to your land," he said. "Gather as many as you can and prepare them for battle."

"The Quadlings are peaceful people, general." she protested. "The least they have are slings and staffs. We can't send them to their deaths armed with nothing!"

"The Lady Glinda has a palace there, am I correct?" he asked. She nodded. "She has soldiers there?" Another nod. "Get them ready, then arm the people." He turned to Boq. "We need the Munchkin people ready to move at a moment's notice. They have farming tools, right?"

"Yes, but what about food?" he asked.

"They'll have to take what they can find," the General said. "That crystal castle is leeching the farmland of its virtue, which is why your crops are dying. Can you ride to the East and get the people ready?"

Boq nodded, then took off.

Kloxolk then turned to Ruddrix. "Fox, I need you to go on a very dangerous mission for me. Do you know the Southstairs?"

The Fox's hind legs trembled as he nodded.

"In them, there is a cavern that leads deep into the earth - into the Kingdom of the Nomes." he continued. "Have courage, for there is a Nome who is good, who lives within that cavern-tunnel. His name is Muugh. Seek him out."

"May my coat be shorn off me and given to a worthier Fox if I fail my duty!" Ruddrix said, bowing, before he took off.

The General then turned to the Hippogryph.

"You're from Gilikin, right?"

"Yes."

"Take me there. We'll start recruiting men for the army."

"It will make no difference." A voice spoke out.

Kloxolk looked around and saw a figure clad in black robes walking toward him. Warily, he drew out his sword.

"Who are you?" he asked, pointing the sword towards the stranger.

"A friend," the figure said. "Meet me in the highest room of the North Tower tomorrow at noon, after you've gone to the Chamber of Souls. Seek the Chamber of Souls, there is something you need there." The figure then ran down the hallway. Kloxolk ran after it, but he was not fast enough and it disappeared before his eyes.

He then turned to the Hippogryph, who was still standing at his side.

"Have you ever heard of the Chamber of Souls?"

"It's supposed to be an old Glikkun legend." Khyorke said. "A place where the souls of the dead go when people die in the absence of the Ozma. I've never been there, but I know what mountain its supposed to be at."

"Can you take me there?"

* * *

It was only a few hours later, as the two were now flying their way away from the green haze of the Emerald City behind them and soaring toward the black-green mountains of the Glikkus. Below them stretched the land of Oz. To the right there were the golden fields of Munchkinland, going brown and fallow with the loss of nutrients that kept the soil healthy and fruitful. To the left rose the Great Gilikin forest, mysterious in the gathering dark.

"How the day grows dark!" Khyorke called out.

Kloxolk noticed this, and noticed that it was indeed getting darker. He turned to the sun, going down in the west. Had they spent so much time talking that the time had passed so swiftly?

But there was another serious thing happening to the sun that made Kloxolk's spine shiver uncontrollably.

From the west, pouring out of the small castle, which had now grown rather large, was a great black fume that was rising to the sky. The whole of the western sky was now clouded with this great shroud, which cast a great shadow upon the Great Gilikin Forest.

However, there was something even more disturbing that was happening to the sun itself.

The reek of black smoke growing from out of the crystal castle seemed like a great, shadowy hand that now reached up for the sun. Whether it was pulling the sun out of its place and into the darkness, or whether it grew up and around the sun, blotting it out of the sky, neither Kloxolk nor Khyorke could comprehend.

The affect was the same, though. The sun was gone.

* * *

In the darkness, the two flew on to the side of the Glikkun mountains, where they saw, afar off, a distant cave, made of marble that seemed to shine white. Buried within the rock were emeralds, those untouched by the miners far below. Here they came to a rest, and Kloxolk drew out his sword to shed some light on the cave.

"This is the place." Khyorke said, indicating to the white cave. "We have to go inside. It's at the back, in the middle of a well."

The General nodded, and the two made their way slowly into the cave's mouth.

Once inside the pitch black cave, the light of Kloxolk's clock-work eye turned on, shining a beam of light in front of them. This was fortunate for almost as soon as it had done so, the glow of his sword started to fade.

Even more so, the General started to feel heavily weighed down, and could barely keep himself on his feet.

"What's happening?" he asked.

Khyorke brayed aloud, then coughed and said: "I don't know."

Casting a glance upon the floor, the General saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

A few, innocent-looking black crystals stuck conspicuously out of the wall of the cave.

"There!" he said, pointing to the crystals. But he dared not get closer, for he started feeling a strange numbness the closer he got to it. "It's these damn crystals. Let's keep moving."

A few, wearisome minutes later and the two suddenly heard the rushing of water.

With all the strength they could muster, they ran down the rest of the cave-tunnel and came upon the cavern where the music of the water originated.

There was a pool and a well of water, around which a haze of white light reflected the mesmerizing dance of the water's reflection upon the marble walls of the cave.

Kloxolk approached the edge of the pool, and saw, upon a island on the other side, a small black object.

"I think that's what we're supposed to get." he said.

"Do not disturb the water." a voice said.

He looked about, trying to see who had spoken. From out of the haze there appeared a figure in white that slowly came closer.

"Who are you?"

"Nothing," the figure spoke, in the voice of a woman. "You must leave this place. Only the dead abide here, awaiting their final allotment. Your time is not yet."

"I have to find something, for...a friend." Kloxolk said.

"Did Glinda send you?"

"Who?"

"She roams the worlds, summoning all things for the last defense of Oz." the figure said. "If only I could return to her aid, for she needs all the help we can get: all of Oz needs all the help it can get."

"The Nameless One has returned, is that it?"

The figure nodded solemnly. "Now I must leave. Heway calls me back."

"Are you a Quadling? Are you the Good Witch of the South?"

The figure started to fade, but then turned and smiled at Kloxolk.

"I am Leyen, once known as the Good Witch of the South." She then waved and disappeared.

Another figure appeared out of the white mist.

"You!" an old man shouted. "They killed me! Killed me, they have! They're mad!"

"Who? Who's killed you?"

"I couldn't see a face," the old man shouted. "But there were two of them: a man and a woman. They came to me a month ago, and tried to get the information out of me. The Wonders, Glinda, everything! They said they'd return to kill me, whether I was telling the truth or lying."

"The Wonders?"

"They have awakened." the old man said. "I was the head-master of Shiz university, and learned much from what the others left me. The Golden Wonders are abroad. Only one is broken, the Golden Cap. The Golden Dagger disappeared, though there's no way of knowing where it went."

"Where are the others?"

"I'm afraid I cannot say." the old man said fearfully. "My time is coming, and I must move on. There is one who has not moved on, who has refused to leave. She must return, she's our only hope. Use the Mirror to seek out the other Wonders, its the only way. Take it now and begone."

The figure faded into the white mist, which then gathered itself up into a cloud and gathered about the black object. In a sudden second, Kloxolk felt a black, leathery object thrown into his face. In the glow of his eye, he saw a black, tall-peaked hat with a wide brim.

"Did we _-squawk-_ find what we're _-squawk-_ looking for?" Khyorke asked.

"Yes, we did."

* * *

A few minutes later, the two crawled their way back outside into the darkness outside. Once outside of the cave, the two felt a little better. Kloxolk could walk better than before and Khyorke wasn't squawking anymore. The General made his way onto the back of the Hippogryph and the two flew off into the sky toward the emerald glow of the City.

Two hours later, the City was now within sight. From what they could hear below, there was something amiss in the City below.

They could make out two figures flying about the Emerald Palace, and cries of panic arose from below.

* * *

**(AN: Boom! That's three different original ideas all molded into one and getting ready to introduce Son of a Witch and Wicked characters, as well as OCs for this story...well, sort of. Hope you enjoyed this short but revealing chapter. A subtle nod to LeiaEmberblaze for the appearance of her original character! Stay tuned for more updates on the story)**


	10. Father and Daughter

**(AN: Here we go, introducing a few Son of a Witch/A Lion Among Men characters into my tale. Sorry to those who might be offended that I make them villains, but I really didn't like Liir after Wicked, not because he was gay but because he seemed to be as indecisive and irresponsible as Elphaba from the book...ooh, there it went. I let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. Oh well, I hope you enjoy it anyhow)**

* * *

**Chapter Nine - Father and Daughter**

The Hippogryph galloped to a landing, and Kloxolk clumsily dismounted, drawing out his sword. At the arrival of the newcomer, the two figures dropped out of the sky and came to the doorstep of the Emerald Palace. Kloxolk saw the incompetent Private Amby make his stand before the dark-clad figures.

"Excuse me," he asked them politely. "Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Drop dead, you stupid, fat oaf!" one of the figures said, in a strong, manly voice.

The Private shivered in fear, throwing his musket into the air. He then straightened and, trying to sound authoritative, said very self-confidently:

"I'm warning you, I'm the Army of Oz, and I will not tolerate any mean-spirited people coming here and disturbing the quiet of Ozma's city!"

"Get out of my way!" the man said angrily.

The frightened private ran like a shot, hiding behind the emerald skirts of a gaggle of shoppers.

At this, Kloxolk walked forward, his sword in hand.

"State your business." Kloxolk said.

"My business is mine, not yours!" the man said, and he stretched out his hand and a bolt of green light struck the pavement at Kloxolk's feet. But he did not falter.

"If your business is in the Emerald City, then you tell me what it is." General Kloxolk said.

"Do I look like one of these stupid, fat push-over Ozians who'll cower at the first sign of force?" the man said. "Or do I happen to appear like an ignorant dandy who thinks a prissy little, selfish potentate is the Ozma?"

At this, the gaggle of girls ran away from where they had frozen. Not out of fright, but out of disgust. Omby was found crouching and quivering alone, a small wet-stain on the front of his trousers.

The figure at the man's side, who had been silent, let out peeling, mocking laughter.

"Now stand aside, old fool." she said, stepping forward and swinging a black-wood broomstick at the General, who deflected it with his clock-work arm.

"You must be under the delusion that I am of the rabble of Oz: who will bow down to any authority figure as long as they are in power, and have no heart to stand up and defend themselves." A stern, no-nonsense grimace drew down the heavily-lined, scarred face of the General. "Now state your business!"

"I bring tidings to your leader," the man said. "Where is that prissy little potentate? Come out, Ozma! Come out and face the word of the Master!"

From out of the doors of the Palace came wee Dorothy.

"Liir! What're you doin' here?"

"Shut up, you stupid girl!" the man named Liir shouted. "You pride yourself on your good deeds, but they're nothing more than a strike at popularity! You're just like that foolish potentate! You call yourself good, that you have the power to make people obey you out of love, but you don't do good deeds at all!"

Dorothy made a face and walked back, a whimper of tears escaping her lips. As if on cue, Ozma arrived from the doors of the Emerald Palace almost as soon as Dorothy had appeared.

"Behold the potentate!" the one named Liir said, pointing to Ozma.

"I'm not a potentate, whatever that means!" Ozma cried.

"Fine, have it your way, false Ozma!" Liir said. "Hear the word of the Master from his servant Liir Tiggular: I stole the Witch Glinda's magic book, I destroyed the Tapestry, and I stole this..." He held up a rusty-colored magnet in his hand. "...the Love Magnet of Ozma. The means by which the potentate controlled her people and deceived them: no more!" With both hands, he bent and broke the Magnet as if it were made of wood.

He then turned to the people.

"Ozians, do not be afraid! The Master is here to save us all! He will bring justice to the world, and his name is..."

Before Liir could speak, General Kloxolk threw himself into Liir, pushing him to the ground and clamping a metallic hand on the man's mouth. From behind, the girl took Kloxolk's sword, which he had dropped in his urge to push Liir to the ground, and struck the General in the back. With a cry he crumpled off of Liir. The woman then raised the sword to drive it into the wounded General.

"Nor, don't! Let me handle this."

Liir then walked over to the General and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his face close to his own.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Liir sneered. He then spat in Kloxolk's face, and tossed him to the ground. He then began kicking him quite violently, laughing manically as he did.

"Got something to say, you old maggot?" Liir shouted, as he rained kicks upon the old General. He was now laughing so hard, tears were coming to his eyes, punctuating his words with a kick into Kloxolk's body. "This...is...for...leaving...me...father!"

"Liir, stop!" a strong, authoritative voice said.

The man did not stop, but suddenly a strong blast of bubbles threw Liir off his feet and sprawling to the ground, crying and bawling out and striking out at the air, screaming "I hate you, father! I hate you, mother!"

A pair of jeweled slippers clenched upon Liir's throat, stopping the screams.

"You betrayed me for the last time," the voice said again. "Begone!"

In a sudden whoosh of air, all was quiet again.

The General was then being lifted off the ground, a dark figure leaning over him, pawing at his wounds with black-gloved hands.

Another figure approached, this one in a shimmering blue dress, that shone and sparkled in the dim light. Long tresses of curled blond hair caressed Kloxolk's face, and it felt like silk and baby's skin.

"Who...are you Lurline?" Kloxolk asked.

"I'm afraid not." Glinda said. "General Evemar Kloxolk, I presume?"

Kloxolk nodded.

The blond sorceress turned her gaze to something aside, and powerful hands then lifted the General up and he slowly passed out from loss of blood.

* * *

As the General began to recover, he found himself sitting on a couch in the North Tower. Glinda was there, along with Ozma, Dorothy, and that strange, black-clad figure who was with Glinda.

"You're awake." Glinda said. The General nodded, his eye slowly getting clearer as he rose to a sitting position. Her face was contorted in worry and concern, and a black cloak was draped over Glinda's shoulders, but she was still the same as before.

"I came back just in time to save the Emerald City," she continued. "But I fear I must leave again."

"But you just got back!" Dorothy protested.

"Yes, Glinda." Ozma added. "You can't leave us like this."

"Oh, but I must." the blond sorceress said. "I only returned because I had a promise to keep..." She turned to Kloxolk. "...with the General."

"That was you I saw in the Palace that day?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "I was also the one you saw in the Forest that night."

"That's not true!" Ozma said. "That person tried to hurt us, you'd never do that."

"I have to go," Glinda said. "I have a little to say before I leave: bad times are upon Oz. Very bad times. I cannot help you for the book of mine was stolen...and I have been careless up till now. You must prepare for the worst, and I fear you will need more help than I can give you right now."

"I will give my life for them, Glinda." Kloxolk said humbly.

"Your sacrifice is commendable, General, but I fear not even your power is enough."

"They destroyed my tapestry, Glinda!" Ozma began. "They broke the Love Magnet. What will I do? I can't make everyone love me, and how can I rule unless everybody loves me? And besides..." She pointed an accusatory finger at Kloxolk. "...he's being difficult!"

"You must deal with him for now," Glinda said. "He's here to help. But I fear you will need more help before the end."

"I've already sent for my friend Muugh," Kloxolk said "The others are rousing the armies of Oz, we will be ready."

"That's not enough," Glinda said. "Please tell me you did not forget what I sent you to receive."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the black hat. It was a little crumpled, but it still held its shape. Glinda took the hat and hugged it, as if it were something very dear to her.

"Glinda, that better not be the hat that I think it is!" Dorothy said, her voice breaking with shock.

Glinda handed the hat to her companion in black.

"It is time," she said to her. "My friends, what you are about to see will no doubt shock you and you will have many questions. I'm afraid I cannot answer them all, but I will spare a few moments to quell your doubts. I only ask you to forgive me and...to be open to what I have to say."

Ozma nodded, with a blank look of wrapped attention, while Dorothy nodded sheepishly. Kloxolk nodded slowly but firmly.

Glinda then turned to her companion and nodded. The gloved hands moved up to the hood and lifted it enough that the face could now be seen.

Dorothy cried in shock and then looked again, making sure she hadn't mistaken. It must be the glare of the light off the emerald walls of the tower. But all the colors on herself and her companions shone clear to her eyes, and then her heart stopped dead when she realized that she hadn't been mistaken. It was no trick of the lights.

The stranger's face was green.

* * *

**(AN: Cliffhanger! Read and review, please! The action is coming together!)**


	11. Flying Off the Handle

**(AN: Here we go again. I hope this hasn't been too confusing. I had to shorten my epic a lot, and therefore I hope it doesn't seem too rushed. Now we have some interesting things happening. Read on)**

* * *

**Chapter Ten - Flying Off the Handle**

_"Flying off the handle"_

_A sudden loss of self control._

_An appropriate usage would be if one were offered a big government position, only to discover that the one giving you this position is practically the cause of all the problems in your community. Then, in this realization, without any thought or consideration of consequences, the act of "flying off the handle" would be to run._

_That is a fine definition of "flying off the handle."_

_What Dorothy did when she saw the fair but green-skinned face peak out from beneath that hood was something far worse._

She gasped in fright, falling backwards on her rear.

Then, she exploded.

"**ARE YOU OUTTA YER MIND, GLINDA?**" Dorothy shouted. "**I'VE TOWED TH' LINE AN' FOLLOWED WHAT YOU SAID 'CUZ I BELIEVED YOU WERE GOOD, BUT THEN YOU GO AND DO...THIS! WHY, IT WAS BAD 'NUFF THAT YOU'RE WEARIN' BLACK, BUT NOW YA HAD T'GO AND BRING HER BACK!**"

"Please, Dorothy, listen..."

"**LISTEN TO WHAT? YOU BROUGHT THE WITCH BACK! WHERE'S A BUCKET OF WATER WHEN I NEED IT!**"

Immediately, Dorothy took off down the stairs, screaming about how the Wicked Witch was back and yelling for water. Unfortunately, she found what she was looking for and walked back up the stairs a few moments later, a bucket splashing in her arms as she carried it to the tower.

"...what use is a good sorceress if she's bringin' witches back!"

Once she reached the top step, she heaved it with all her might at the hooded stranger. The bolt of water splashed out, froze while flying, and fell harmlessly at her feet as snow.

"Dorothy, hold your peace." Glinda spoke. "You have not let me speak, and I have much to say and very little time in which to say it."

"Make it quick." said Dorothy rudely.

"My companion is Rain, the daughter of a friend of yours. Her green skin is...something she has to deal with...but that is no reason to be rude to her."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that this is not the Witch! And your little assault against her was extremely wrong, especially since it would hurt her worse than you think. Now please, sit down and let me speak my peace."

"Why should I?" Dorothy asked warily.

"If you can't trust Glinda," Kloxolk suddenly interjected. "Who can you trust?"

"For once, he's right." Ozma agreed.

Obviously outnumbered, Dorothy sat down with a very unlady-like huff, as far away from the green girl as she could get, trying not to look at her.

"Rain is a friend," Glinda began. "She's here to help you in your struggle against the Nameless Traitor."

"Then it is true." Kloxolk said.

"That he has returned?" asked Glinda. "I cannot tell. My magical book was stolen, and I cannot see what is happening in Oz anymore. I dare hope that he is still imprisoned: there would be a great void of power if he had returned. So I charge you all not to speak his name, if you know it. And don't let anyone else speak it either. I fear some great power resides still in the speaking of his name. Just once more and it might be enough to break him out of his prison."

"None shall say his name on my watch, Glinda." the General said, nodding.

"But if nobody speaks his name," Ozma suddenly interjected. "How will we know what name we're not supposed to be saying?"

"Believe me," Glinda said knowingly. "You'll know."

"Why'd you disappear on us?" Ozma asked.

Glinda shook all over, cringing into a position of fear, trying to keep her trembling hands steady by holding them in each other. Dorothy came closer, trying to put a comforting arm on Glinda's shoulder, but the sorceress brushed her off. The green-skinned woman, Rain it was, came nearer to do the same.

"Don't you touch her!" Dorothy snapped at the green thing. "You filthy little monster."

Rain recoiled at this, slumping back into a solitary, black-shrouded mass of cloak and hood. Glinda, meanwhile, was almost on the verge of tears as she tried to speak.

"As you may know," she said, gaining her composure a little. "I'm not from Quadling. I never was the Good Witch of the South, but of the North. But a debt I had to pay to an old friend who left Oz many years ago led me to watch over the Quadlings. I received a letter, telling me that she had returned in the North. I tried to find her in my book, but it had been stolen.

"So I went North on my own, only to discover that I was too late. She was dead."

Another fit of trembling overtook the small, sad blond creature.

"And-and-and...and I was so distraught, that the sight of...another friend...made me let my guard down. He took me to a pub, to have a drink in memory of my friend. I am not as strong-willed as before..."

She broke off into incoherence. Both Ozma and Dorothy were stunned into dreadful silence, for neither of them had ever seen Glinda this weak before.

"I had too much. It all came back to me! I was in such a state of fear and loathing, I don't know what came over me. I think he is no longer a friend now: he used that moment to poison my mind, to get me to tell him things..." She turned to Ozma and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." she said, through tears. "I have betrayed you all: I couldn't help myself, I told him...everything."

"Whatever happened," Ozma said. "I'm sure you didn't mean to wrong us. You're not at fault."

Glinda smiled. Always the optimist, Ozma was.

Kloxolk was musing over this new revelation, and it made him nervous. Who was this 'him' she referred to? Could it be the Nameless? Had he returned to power and, in the guise of a friend, deceived even Glinda the Good? Was he even now mustering his armies in that castle in the west, assured of victory?

"It got worse." Glinda said, her voice dry and empty of all but shock. "There was pain, such as I never felt, and the memories all came rushing back to me. I felt as though I would die, I didn't know what to do. I cried out for help, for anybody..."

"What memories?" Ozma asked curiously, but in her mind alone.

"What happened?" Dorothy asked aloud.

Glinda shook her head and turned away, and the stranger in the hood put a comforting arm around her shoulder. Dorothy did not notice this, or else she would have rebuked Rain.

"Tell us what happened." the General asked.

Glinda swallowed hard, trying in vain to keep back the tears. She then turned to Dorothy and Ozma.

"You came. Then he spoke to me..." She sighed, then closed her eyes, trying hard not to look at Dorothy. "He said that there was a way I could make the pain go away."

Kloxolk put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Ozma looked at Glinda in shock, for her voice had changed. It was breaking, turning into a deep, hollow, lifeless moan, like the sound of some hideous black-robed creature from the depths of Gilikin Forest.

"What was it?" Dorothy asked.

There was an inner struggle as two power strove within Glinda's mind, behind her closed eyes. It was like viewing an argument between a violent, alcoholic husband and his defensive wife from the side of the road, they behind the drawn sheets of the window.

Then the blinds were lifted, and Glinda's blue eyes rolled back into her skull.

"_Kill you._" she hissed at Dorothy.

Hands threw aside her wand and almost jumped at Dorothy. The little farm-girl gave a cry in fear, scurrying against the far side of the room as if for her life. Noticing this, the General and Rain almost jumped upon her to keep her from doing anything she might regret.

"No!" cried the General. "You are not yourself!"

"My eyes are open, now get off me, you old fool!" growled the distorted voice.

"Please! Do not do this!"

"I've waited a hundred years for this moment!" Glinda hissed. "You won't deny me vengeance!"

"This isn't you!" a warm, sympathetic yet strong voice said from the folds of Rain's hood. "You must resist!"

"But the pain!"

"There's no more pain, Glinda!" Rain urged. "He can't hurt you anymore."

Glinda fell to the floor, coughing and sobbing uncontrollably. They rose her back to the sitting position, and wiped her face with a lace handkerchief. After what seemed like an eternity, she coughed and blinked open her eyes, their usual inviting shade of baby-blue.

"I must go." the sweet yet haggard voice of Glinda said. "I've wasted too much time here. The Enemy is after the Wonders, and my presence is playing into his hands."

"Wait a minute!" Ozma shouted. "You can't just attack Dorothy and then take off like that!"

"I must make amends, Your Ozness." Glinda said. "I told him everything, now I have to work against him with all my power."

"You still haven't told us anything," Kloxolk argued. "What must we do?"

"Keep the Wonders out of the Enemy's hand." she said. "Or, if you fail, fight to the last...until I return."

"When will you return?" Ozma queried.

"When I have the power to set this all to rights." she said. "Now hinder me no more, I must be off!"

Taking up her wand, she almost charged to the ledge of the North tower. She then turned back to the others.

"Rain will stay with you. Please, be accepting of her. You will need her help before the end." She then turned to the green-skinned woman. "Keep that hat with you always!"

A breeze blew upon the ledge of the tower, and Glinda disappeared in a haze of glass-like bubbles.

* * *

**(Now the story starts to "wax philosophic", that is because I've got a LOT of my own philosophical debates and my personal battles with Wicked and the anti-hero of the story tied in with this story. I hope you can sift through my feeble attempts at a philosophically meaningful epic and enjoy it. Please review.)**

**(08.16.11 update - As it has recently been revealed to me, the name of Liir and Candle's daughter is Rain, therefore I will re-edit ALL of this story to include the new, Maguire-version of her name.)  
**


	12. Kiamo Ko Again

**(AN: Okay, we've got another long-ish one. It gets a little bit "political", but then again, this is closer to Wicked the book than Wicked the musical, so I can gets away with i! :D Something very important happens here...hint hint...the title has to do with it!)**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven - Kiamo Ko Again**

The four of them stood almost stunned in the North Tower, having just witnessed the departure of the Lady Glinda. None of them knew exactly what to say. They still had so little to go on, and Glinda had only told them what had befallen in the woods (an event Kloxolk hadn't witnessed and therefore knew nothing about, and it meant little to him).

Ozma was uneasy. As much as she wanted to ignore the truth, she could see no way around it. She had one of the Golden Wonders, she had to tell the others about it. They could use it to keep track of the enemy, to make sure he couldn't find the other Wonders.

But there was another thing that made her uneasy. She knew that, for all of General Kloxolk's hard, stern exterior, he was right. She did not know how to run a country. She just wanted to party, have fun and have all the people love her. Was that too much to ask? Could she not enjoy herself and yet still be loved by all?

For the General, that was too much. And he would not cease from telling her that she was misleading her people.

And deep down inside, she knew that he was right. She couldn't lead her people. It slowly dawned upon her that she was ruining Oz.

And she didn't care. It would all blow over, she told herself. Something would happen, all of Oz would be set to rights, the people would get back to loving her, and all of this would be nothing but a bad dream.

She dismissed herself and walked off to her chambers to sleep. She couldn't stand the pressure.

"So," the green-skinned girl named Rain asked after a long silence that followed Ozma's departure. "How can I help?"

"You can help," Dorothy answered roughly. "by not ever talkin' 'bout that wicked ol' witch, the only other person with green skin. You give me th'willies, just lookin' at you."

"What witch?" asked Rain.

"The one you look like!" Dorothy all-but shouted.

"What is with you, your highness?" asked Kloxolk. "Can't you appreciate someone despite their skin-color?"

"This commin' from you?" she asked. "Hangin' out with Nomes and other filth."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." Dorothy said confrontation-ally. She then turned to Rain. "And you, don't talk. I don't even wanna see you again, s'that clear?"

Rain sighed, her face disappearing beneath her hood.

"We should be working together." Kloxolk said, sounding thoroughly annoyed with Dorothy and Ozma's petty behavior. "The destruction of that fortress is key."

"But how can we do it?" Dorothy asked.

"No magic can harm it," he said. "I know because the sorcerers of Ev tried on those that erupted back home."

"Wait, this happen'd before?" Dorothy asked.

"That was why I came to Oz," Kloxolk said. "We needed help against the rise of the crystals; black giants, the kind that make up that fortress."

"So what happens now?" queried the farm-girl princess.

"Only force can destroy those crystals, I presume." Kloxolk said. "But we must charge them _en masse_, or else we will be eaten away by the magic of those crystals. That's why I sent Aidan, Ruddrix and Boq to seek for aid. With enough man-power, we should be able to break the castle."

"What about Gilly-kin or Winkie-land?" asked Dorothy.

"I'm afraid Glinda's arrival prevented me from sending Khyorke to Gilikin..."

Almost immediately, the huge Hippogryph flew down into the landing.

"General!" he shouted. "I bumped into someone who said they saw you up here." He saw Kloxolk's surprised look. "Is all well?"

"Yes," the General responded. "I have a mission for you. Go to Gilikin and rouse the people to action. We need to assemble in the Emerald City as soon as possible."

"At once." Khyorke said, nodding and then taking off as soon as he had left.

The General pulled himself clumsily up into a standing position and turned to Dorothy.

"You're friends with the Tin Woodsman, am I correct?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." she replied.

"Come with me." he said, beginning his way down the steps. Then he recalled that he forgot something and turned around to the silent, black-robed figure.

"My apologies, miss. Please, come with us."

The three of them had come to the lowest level of the North tower, and were making their way down the deserted North hall when a little girl in green passed them by.

"Hey, servant!" Dorothy called to her. "C'me'ere."

Jellia came as she was called. "Yes, princess?"

"Where's the Tin Man?" she asked.

"He's gone back to his castle in the Vinkus." the servant replied humbly.

"Is he mad?" asked the General. "That fortress is far too close! It's suicide!"

"Don't start that again!" Dorothy said. "Nobody dies in Oz, so what's there to worry about?"

"Have you heard nothing of what I said?" Kloxolk shouted at Dorothy, losing his patience. "That crystal fortress prevents Ozma's magic from working. Without it, death is quite possible. You need to get that through your head now before its too late!"

She gave a "huff" and turned her back on him.

"Lady," Kloxolk said, turning to the servant girl. "Can you tell me where the Wizard is?"

The girl, though shocked by his previous outburst, blushed a little and giggled at being called a lady. She then composed herself and thus replied:

"He's in the main throne room," she said. "I think he's having dinner."

"Good, I need to speak with him."

"Wait," Dorothy said, turning back to him. "I thought you didn't trust 'im."

"I don't! But he's had his thumb on the pulse of Oz for a very long time. He might be able to help." He then turned to them. "Princess, you must go to the Vinkus and persuade your friend to return to the Emerald City. It's not safe out there!"

Without another word, he stumbled his way down towards the main hall.

"Well, there's a fine 'how'd'ya do!'" Dorothy exclaimed.

"What happens now?" Rain asked.

"Hey!" Dorothy said. "What did I tell you about speakin'? Now come with me, we're goin' to Winkie-land." She then whistled and her dog Toto ran to her side. Picking him up in her arms, she left the Palace and set out on her way towards the Vinkus, with Rain following six steps behind.

One look back and the little black dog barked at the black-clad woman.

"Yeah, I know, Toto." Dorothy said to the dog. "She gives me the creepers. But better t'have 'er close, where I can make sure she's not doin' bad stuff than free on her own to do it, right?"

The dog gave a "woof" in agreement.

* * *

The sky was dark, for the clouds continued to possess the sky. Little to no light came through the dark reek up above, and the only light that was from without were camp-fires lit in the far corners of Oz, or a strange kind of pale, dead glow coming from the crystal fortress in the West.

The two figures were now far on their way out of the Emerald City, it turning into nothing more than a green haze behind them. They headed north-west, with the river on their left-hand. This was the Gilikin River, whose source was the great lake of Restwater, directly south of the Emerald City. It wound its way northwest for a long while, branching off into a few smaller streams and creeks along the way, before it bent north-east sharply a few miles north of Kiamo Ko. It then snaked its way across the mid-section of Gilikin, dividing the Lowlands and the Uplands of Gilikin, until it came to a rest somewhere on the far-eastern border of the Great Gilikin Forest.

However, they would not be going down the whole river. Just around where the river wound north-eastward, at the political border between the Vinkus and Gilikin, they would cross the Emperor's Bridge. This was a rather new addition, created not during the reign of Emperor Apostle Shell Thropp, but by the Tin Woodsman himself, who called himself "Emperor of the Winkies." The Emperor's Bridge served as an easy mode of access across the Gilikin River to the Emperor's Tin Castle, located in the mountains just west of the Wiccasand Turning.

They would cross the bridge and continue along the border until they came to the Emperor's Castle, which was the termination of their journey.

The West was still rugged in many ways, though it had become a little tame when the dandy Tin Woodsman ruled over the Vinkus. In fact, one might even say that the Vinkus had lost its fire with the ruling of Tin Man. The people were forced to adapt the Munchkin and Gilikin style of their rulers, and even permitted themselves to be called the pejorative "Winkie" rather than the correct Vinkan. The Emperor's Castle was a sign of outer influence upon the Vinkus, a sign that it was being slowly industrialized and overcome by the rest of "civilized" Oz.

That night, or the murky-black darker-than-darkness that used to be called night, the travelers slept in a broken-down barn that sat by itself. Dorothy had Toto nearby, while Rain, the green-skinned woman, huddled by herself on the other side of the barn. The little farm-girl snored away loudly, wholly oblivious that her friend was responsible for robbing the Vinkans of their old lifestyle.

* * *

The quickest way to get to the Emperor's Bridge would be to make a straight line there-to from the Emerald City. However, due to the severe lack of roads in this part of the country, the Eastern Vinkus, it was rather easy to get lost if one did not know the wagon-trails that the bolder adventurers used to take. Since Dorothy knew them not, she used the River as her guide. This was sound, for the River would lead them directly to the Emperor's Bridge...in time.

The downside to this plan was the tediousness of the voyage. A straight line across the many creeks that branched off from the Gilikin River was not something Dorothy had in mind, and Rain always kept a safe distance away from the water's edge: safe being far enough away that, if she did trip, she would not roll down into the water. Dorothy found this odd, until she remembered, despite trying to force the memory down, that the Witch, the only other green-skinned person she knew, was killed because of water.

Though the memory of the water turning into harmless snow that moment in the North Tower also reminded Dorothy that, even if she did have water to throw at Rain, it might not do any good.

At this, another thought came into Dorothy's head. It was not a memory, and so she did not suppress it. But there was something curious about the fact that the Wicked Witch, who would not have been called a witch had she not possessed some kind of evil, magical power, simply let the water devour her rather than doing something to prevent it, as Rain had done. This lead to the supposition that, perhaps, Rain had greater magical power than even the Witch had.

This made Dorothy very uneasy, for though she hated that green thing that reminded her of the Witch, it was the mere thought that she could have enough power to repay all those hurtful things Dorothy was doing to her that made the little girl cringe in fear at the sight of it.

Or maybe it was fear that made her cringe? The memory of the Witch and the realization that her past had come back to haunt her.

But she was without fault, she told herself. It wasn't her fault that her house killed the other witch, who was the green witch's sister. Nor was it her fault that her friends killed the wolves, the bees or the crows while they themselves were walking this very path to her castle. It wasn't even her fault that she threw the water: how was she to know it would kill the Witch? No, she reasoned, she was not at fault.

Then why did she feel guilt whenever she thought of the Witch or looked at Rain?

Perhaps that was the real reason she hated this new green girl. Not because she was ugly, for even her voice bespoke of beauty, but because looking at her made her feel guilty.

Something she did not want to feel.

* * *

Two more days passed as they continued on their journey. The Great Kells now rose up in sight on the other side of the River, erupting the now yellowing grass and turf of the Eastern Vinkus. The sun did not raise its face again, and the glow of the Emerald City was now almost a green star, flirting with the edge of the horizon.

They continued on their way, having successfully navigated around the many lakes the previous days and once again had the River on their left-hand. The high-mountains of the Great Kells loomed on the other side of the river, while endless plains of golden-green grass stretched to the right, far off to the small green star on the eastern horizon.

Suddenly, Toto started barking.

"What is it, boy?" asked Dorothy. "D'you see something?"

Toto barked again.

Looking in the direction, she saw that Rain was no longer behind them. Instead, she was walking off toward the left hand, to the River's edge.

"Hey!" Dorothy called. "Rainy! You come back 'ere this minute! D'ya' hear me?"

There was no response as the black-clad figure walked towards the River's edge. Silence hung in the air, broken only by Dorothy's calls.

"We ain't goin' that way!" she shouted. "Now come'on back 'ere a'fore somethin' bad happens! I ain't gonna wanna get you outta it, ya hear?"

Still there was no response. Dorothy almost wished that Rain wouldn't stop, that she would keep on walking and fall into the River. Perhaps, with all that water, she would melt away faster than she could scream. Or she would be washed away and Dorothy would finally be rid of all memory of green people forever.

Then, to her astonishment, she saw the water's surface turn to ice even as Rain's boots touched the surface. Slowly, steadily, the black-clad woman inched her way across the surface of the water, walking on a sheet of ice.

"Uh..." Dorothy moaned, fearful as she witnessed yet another act of Rain's great power. Or was it disappointment that she wouldn't be rid of that green-skinned person so easily.

"I just said we ain't goin' that way!" she called back. "Stop!"

But nothing she said would deter the green-skinned woman from crossing the River. She was already half-way over, there would be no stopping her once she reached the other side.

_Fine_, thought Dorothy._ Let her go. I couldn't care less. I never wanted her here to begin with, she's a waste of space._

But the world was dark, and the shadows seemed to leer at her from behind everything, even the blades of grass. Without the warmth of the sun or any companion other than Toto, the beautiful land of Oz seemed very menacing to her.

"Let her go, Toto." Dorothy said to her dog, who hadn't made one attempt to follow Rain. "We're just gonna sit here and not go wit'her, no matter what."

The little farm-girl threw herself upon the ground, with Toto at her side.

Getting smaller and smaller, Rain was now on the other side of the River. But the sheet of ice still kept the "River bridge" intact.

A frustrated and very unlady-like grunt came from Dorothy's lips as she got back to her feet and ran towards the River, shouting: "Wait fer me, please!"

* * *

A long way and many skids and cuts later, all of them on Dorothy's feet from slipping on the ice, she finally caught up with Rain.

"What in tarnations is in yer head, ya dumb thang?" she scolded the green-skinned woman. "Didn't I tell ya we ain't goin' this way? Now c'mon, let's get back over b'fore..."

Turning back behind her, she saw that the ice-bridge had melted. The River resumed its rightful course.

"Lookit what'choo did!" she scolded. "Now we can't get back across nohow!"

Rain paid no attention and walked on towards the west, towards the mountains.

A whimper escaped Dorothy's lips when she looked up and saw what lie at the top of those mountains.

"Now you listen here, missy," she said, trying to sound authoritative. "You stop this minute! We ain't goin' up there, to that there castl' and that's that!"

No response, except for the silence as the black-clad figure continued on her chosen path.

In her frustration, she picked up a rock and threw it at Rain's back. This got the black-clad woman's attention, for she turned around and stopped.

"Are you messed up in th'head?" she asked. "We ain't goin' that way! We gotta go back. We gotta find the Tin Man! Only because that dad-gum Gen'ral told us to. I don't know why, though. He's been so bossy since we got back. Maybe we should just ignore his dang orders 'n go back to th' Emerald City. I miss a warm bed and good food. Can't believe you didn't pack no food wit'choo. I mean, it's not like..."

"Would you please shut up?" Rain asked, her sweet voice sounding angry.

"Hey!" Dorothy shout back. "I told ya I don't want no talkin' outta ya!" She reached down, picked up another stone and threw it at Rain. To her great surprise, it flew back and hit her on the shoulder. "Ow!"

Rain hadn't been hit. In fact, much to Dorothy's annoyance, she was smiling.

Once again, she set off towards the castle, with a sore Dorothy following at her tail.

Now getting very fearful with each step closer to the castle.

* * *

It didn't seem harmful at all, and she was curious as to why Dorothy got very uptight about it. It was very irrational, Rain thought, to be afraid of something so innocent-looking, albeit a little dark against the blackening sky.

Up the sides of the mountain they went, a steep way it was too. Only Rain, it seemed, had no trouble getting to the top of the mountain. Dorothy, however, was stumbling and kept scraping her knee and tearing her dress. Rain had learned half-way up the mountain-side to just drown out all the sighs and groans that complaining Dorothy uttered from below.

They had now reached the top, and could have a better view of the castle. The gates were left open, and it seemed very run down and left to rot, though the castle seemed to have plainly refused to fall into great decay.

"What is that place?" Rain asked, regardless of what Dorothy would say.

The little girl, with Toto in her arms, was now at her side, trembling visibly and shaking as she spoke. She didn't even care that Rain was talking. In fact, all things considered, it was a beautiful and friendly voice. She would have loved listening to it...

If it didn't belong to someone so..._green._

"I ferget the name," she said, trembling. "Its...uh...Kee-Ah-Mo-Ko, or sumthin' like that."

"What an interesting name."

"C'mon, please." Dorothy whined. "Let's get outta here!"

But an overwhelming desire had come upon the green-skinned girl to go inside and explore the castle. As if pulled by some will other than her own, or perhaps in conjunction with her own, she began walking towards the castle-gate.

They came upon a very run-down place, for the castle hadn't had inhabitants in almost a hundred years. Rain made her way through the halls curiously, looking at everything that she saw with great intent. Despite its broken appearance, there was some heart left in this dreary old castle.

Dorothy, on the other hand, was afraid. Memories of this place haunted her like ghosts. And newer, even worse memories, haunted her of this place, specifically the East Tower. She didn't like it when she and Ozma went there, and it wasn't any better now.

It was even worse now, for she had someone who reminded her frightfully so of the previous owner of this castle.

They were now walking down one of the many hallways of the castle. It was long and silent, and their footsteps echoed as they walked down the stones. Dorothy's heart was pounding fiercely beneath her chest, for she feared something bad was going to happen any second, and she could feel the hairs on her arm raise up as she began to relive a frightening memory.

Rain suddenly tripped over a bucket that was lying upon the floor. As she slowly rose to her feet, her attention was brought to the floor, where she saw some old, black clothes sitting in a pile on the floor before her.

"Oh, dear Lord." whined Dorothy in a half-whisper.

"What happened here?" Rain asked curiously, getting up to look at what she saw. Dorothy was trembling and kept her mouth shut, all the while fearing to say the wrong thing but wanting to just grab that thin, black-clad green arm and run out as fast as her trembling legs could carry her.

As Rain finally got up and was brushing herself off of the dust that was on the floor, she noticed the hat Glinda gave her was lying on the ground.

"Hmmm." she said curiously. It had been a while, and she had forgotten all about the hat. She put her fingers around it, and discovered that it was warm to the touch. Perhaps because it had been snuggled so close to her body that it was warmed by her, she wondered.

"Please put that down!" Dorothy begged.

"Why?" Rain asked, picking it up and examining it. "Glinda told me to keep it with me always." She then pushed off the hood, and a smile crept across her green-lipped face. "Besides, it's a rather nice-looking hat."

Dorothy whimpered fearfully, but managed to squeeze a very weak smile in return, fearing what was coming next. Rain put the hat on her head, and smiled a lovely, green-faced and truthful smile at Dorothy. It made the little girl sick to her stomach to see something so green and ugly smile (though she knew Rain was anything but ugly). But an even worse feeling overtook her when she saw the hat on her head.

She barely kept a scream from escaping her lips.

Rain looked almost exactly like her.

"How do I..."

But before Rain could say 'look', she collapsed. It sounded like she was gagging. Dorothy dare not touch her, for something was freezing her where she stood. A few moments of gagging were followed by writhing, as if in great pain. Once again Dorothy's body refused to move.

After all, she thought, if she was dying, why should I try to help? I never liked that hideous green face before.

But another thing was rooting her little feet into the ground.

Fear.

Rain's face suddenly came up to look, staring directly into Dorothy's eyes. She could see that something was wrong, for a change had come. Slowly and gradually, the green face started to change. It was still green, but the youth and freshness, or 'loveliness' of Rain's face started to melt away. The full, brown eyes began to narrow and became piercing and metallic blue.

Then she fell to the floor. She moved no more.

All was silent.

* * *

**(Cliffhanger! Ask your questions in the review below!)**


	13. The Wizard Speaks the Unspeakable Name

**(AN: In order to build dramatic tension...I don't go back to what happened! hahahaha! Yes, I'm evil, I know. But nobody really has been paying attention to my stories, so I thought I'd make them a little more interesting. Here we go with the introduction of another OC, one whose coming has been foretold since "Another World, Another War". We're almost caught up to where I've left off with the writing of the story, so hold on to your horses, because the Shiz is about to hit the fan! lol)**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve - The Wizard Speaks the Unspeakable Name**

The huge green doors were thrust open by Private Amby and General Kloxolk limped his way back into the Throne Room. He always limped, for it was hard walking with his prosthetic leg.

What he found inside the Throne Room, however, was most disturbing. A banquet table had been arranged, and Ozma sat at the head. Around her was her retinue of friends, even some he hadn't seen before.

They were having dinner in perfect bliss, regardless of the danger that Oz was in right now.

"Your Highness!" the General announced, since no one had announced him.

No answer came from the table, and it irked Kloxolk severely. He addressed the Ozma again, but she made no acknowledgment of his presence. Muttering something foul beneath his breath, he limped over to the table and slammed his clock-work hand on it so hard that all faces were turned towards him.

"I'm sorry for the disturberance, your Highness, but I must ask a favor of you."

"Indeed?" she asked with a titter. "Well, as you can see, you have crashed a dinner. Very rude of you, general."

"And I apologize, however, with Oz in the state it is in right now, it would behoove her Majesty to pay some heed to what I have to say."

"And what is that?"

"It is something that I must speak privately, I'm afraid. For it is a private matter."

"There is no privacy here, silly old man. Why, my tapestry makes sure that I know what everyone is doing every minute of the day all throughout my land."

Several of the people there began to whisper, as well as the guards and servants who passed by.

"But that tapestry was..." At this, Ozma rose from her seat and threw a butter knife at the General, which clanked harmlessly off his clock-work arm.

"Stop, now! I order you to stop talking until our dinner is complete!" Her tone was very irate, and her chest was heaving in anger. She sat down and composed herself with a sickly-sweet giggle. "This is a happy dinner party, I will not have your bad news spoil our appetites. Afterward I will think about seeing you or listening to what you have to say."

"Your Ozness, if you would pardon my intrusion, I would like to hear what the General has to say."

All eyes turned towards the Wizard, who threw a persuasive smile back at them. This made them grin or giggle in response, except for the General, whose eyes seemed to be boring a hole through the Wizard's skull. Why had he suddenly taken interest in what was going on?

"In fact," Kloxolk said. "You're the exact person I want to speak with."

"Why?" Ozma asked.

"The Wizard ruled Oz for a long time, Your Ozness." the General said. "He must know something about Oz, considering that nothing was secret in his time...or sacred."

There was a collective gasp from all gathered at the table.

"Did he fail to mention that?" he asked, hate rising in his throat. "Did it slip his mind to tell you all, the ones he calls friends, that he was the greatest tyrant Oz had ever known?"

"Private, hit him!" Ozma commanded of Amby.

"B-b-b-but, Your Ozness..."

"**I SAID HIT HIM, DAMN IT!**" Ozma all but screamed.

The rotund private waddled over to Kloxolk, rose his hand back dramatically, and slapped the General across the face. The General only recoiled slightly, not betraying a single sound. But Amby almost cried, his hand hurting after striking the General.

"How DARE you insult the Wizard of Oz!" Ozma thundered from her seat. "You shall be punished for your insolence!"

"I'm afraid he's right."

All eyes turned to the speaker.

It was the Wizard.

That jovial smile was no longer on his face, all the youthful and fun-loving brightness was gone from his face. Instead, it was grim and sad, as if bringing back into memory past faults long unforgiven. In reverence to the solemnity of the moment, the Wizard doffed his black top-hat and spoke to them all, his voice sad and fraught with remorse.

"Dorothy was the first one to discover my secret," he began. "When she saw that I was just a hum-bug, she said that I was a very bad man. I'm afraid she was right: I am a very, very bad man."

Not a few of them shifted uneasily in their chairs, or averted their eyes from the Wizard.

"Don't believe a word he says, Oscar." Ozma said, indicating to General Kloxolk. "If you're bad, Glinda would never have let you practice magic."

"She wisely restricted my magic," he replied humbly. "That way I can't use my magic to return to power." He then turned to the others. "My people, I once ruled over you. I think I should tell you the truth: what I should have told you long ago."

"But we all know your story." the Scarecrow returned.

"The one I told you way back when?" he asked, scoffing at that. "I kept too much out...but you all deserve to know the truth."

* * *

"As many of you know," began the Wizard. "I am not from Oz. I come from a far away world, one where there is very little magic left, if any at all. I was born and raised in Omaha. I never remembered my family - I found out later that they were killed in a lynch mob; apparently, they had lived long enough to give me my name: Oscar Zoroaster, _et cetera, et cetera_, Diggs.

"I was raised in an orphanage, because I had no guardians at all. At a young age, I demonstrated my talents at ventriloquism. But the master of the orphanage, a superstitious old man, thought that I was possessed and so chucked me out of the orphanage. I joined up with a traveling fair, that had an opening for a ventriloquist. The circus became my family, even though they were all cold and mean people. It was the closest thing I had to a family, and I learned a lot of things going from town to town across the U.S. that I think I'd never learned if I had been given a family and had gone to a regular school.

"At the age of twenty I thought I'd leave the circus and make a name for myself in the outside world. But it was no picnic, for I soon found out that the Diggs family were Irish, and the good people of the United States of America hated Irish as much as they hated anyone else who looked or talked different than they did.

"I faced a fair share of lynch mobs, and broke a good many of my bones by the time I reached twenty-five. I soon became disillusioned with the world, since it was just a haven for the liars and tyrants. I hoped that I could some how make the world change, and make it a safe place for the oppressed. But I was a nobody, and something of a freak to the commoners because of my ventriloquism.

"Once I came across a wealth of information regarding one of the last books of magic in my world called on the 'Grimmerie'. The power that it possessed, if one could read the words correctly, was just what I needed to make my plans of ruler-ship complete. But there were no records of the Grimmerie anywhere, and I decided to return to the circus.

"At that time, I learned that many of the 'magicians' at the circus were actually the last of the true practitioners of magic, and were in search of the Grimmerie to have their revenge on humanity for the Magic Wars. From their discussion I learned that the Grimmerie had been taken out of my world and taken to another world: one that could not be reached unless some powerful natural force could open a portal between the two worlds. It was quite a clever way of keeping another world hidden, I must say. People were so afraid of the forces of nature, they'd never bother trying to see if they could go to another world by walking inside one."

"Get on with it!" Kloxolk demanded, which earned him a kick from the Private at Ozma's orders. Omby Amby was now cradling his toe and hissing in pain beneath his breath.

"Oh, very well, very well." the Wizard said. "It was incredibly hard to find a force of nature that I could get into, and it seemed that I couldn't ever find a way to this other world. I was eventually delegated by the circus masters to piloting the hot-air balloon that advertised the circus; perhaps they knew what was going on, and they didn't want me to get involved in that world, even though I wanted to.

"During a routine flight, a rather powerful gust of wind caught the balloon up into the air and I was carried away into the Land of Oz."

"So?" Brr the Cowardly Lion asked. "You landed and everyone made you the Wizard. What's so bad about that?"

"My story is far from complete." the Wizard continued. "When I first came to Oz, I came in secrecy. The land was in chaos, and I feared that I would be killed if I made my presence public knowledge. I didn't know that I was in the land where the Grimmerie was, so I decided that I would lay low in the east-lands and work as a peddler until I could get enough money or supplies to repair my balloon and return home."

At this moment, the Wizard became very grave indeed.

"I was a young man, and I did some very foolish things that I can hardly say I'm proud of, or that I'd do again. I-I dare not speak of them again. They're not for the young to hear." He was looking at Ozma while he said it, though his hands seemed to be fingering something small and cylindrical, like a small bottle.

"How could you?" Kloxolk, getting his meaning, asked.

"I was young, and I didn't know any better," the Wizard said in his defense. "No, I was old enough to know, but something inside me wanted to do this. I _wanted_ to do it, because it would make me feel good. But at the moment, I thought nothing of it and went about trying to get my balloon back into readiness."

"Rape meant nothing to you," the General said. "As long as it furthered your plans."

"That's right." the Wizard said. A collective gasp came from those around, even from Ozma. "I was almost ready to return, but then I met someone: a sorceress. She said that she was planning to overthrow Pastorius, the Regent who was ruling until you..." He turned to Ozma. "...came of age. At first I said no, because I didn't want to get involved in a coup, but she told me about the Nine Golden Wonders..."

At this, the General turned to look at the Wizard. Perhaps there was more to this old hum-bug than he first thought. How much about them did he know?

"She said she had one, a dagger, that would kill anyone or break any magical enchantment of any kind. She said she would make me the ruler of Oz if I helped her. So...I killed Pastorius and stole the baby Ozma for her."

The girl-ruler gave a shout of horror at this revelation. All backed away as if in shock.

"I don't believe you!" she cried, her hands going up to cover her crying eyes.

"Oh, but it's true." the Wizard said remorsefully. "It's all very true. I gave you to Old Momby, who turned you into a boy, and, well, I think that part is well-known. As for the rest, well, I used my talents of ventriloquism and sleight-of-hand to fool the people into thinking I was some mighty wizard. I ordered them to build for me a grand and great city of emeralds in the midst of Oz, where I made a palace for myself...to hide from Oz that I was a fake.

"But not all the people of Oz were on my side. There were many who refused to come to my side, and I had to keep watch over them. I had few supporters, but those who I had were able to bring to my side the Three Adepts - the fairies who would be on my side and spread my rule across the land of Oz. But they disappeared in Ugabu - we now know that they were turned into fishes, but that story is one for another time - and I was forced to be without any faithful servants.

"I recruited a group of men into a private army that I called the Gale Force, which would sweep across Oz and keep the peace as a sort of secret police. They worked for a while, but only in civilized places that could be reached by roads, of which there were very few. So I ordered the people of Oz to build a road of yellow brick that would allow the Gale Force to much with speed along the civilized places of Oz. But as the road became built, my orders faced resistance from people who began thinking that they could dare rise up against me.

"To that end, I decided to unite them all against one common enemy: the Animals. They had defied my commands regarding the formation of the Yellow Brick Road, and many of them were in positions of power. This I feared, and so I began issuing laws that would appear to the human inhabitants of Oz as a kind of blessing: I would bring in many of the poor people of Oz into the cities, and force the Animals back into the wild from where they came. It started out slowly, first just forcing Animals to live in stables and sties rather than apartments or houses, or forcing them to be transported in animal carts rather than train cars. Then it came to keeping them from taking certain jobs that would give them a voice in the public..."

"You became exactly what you hated!" Kloxolk said, shaking his head.

"You're right." he admitted. "I let power get to my head and I became the very thing that I hated. Needless to say, there were many, both human and Animal, who did not like this idea. I had a great prison made beneath Oz, in which I would incarcerate my enemies until they rotted away and died. It was the Southstairs."

More gasps came from those around. They looked upon the Wizard as some kind of monster now, rather than a friendly little humbug of a wizard. Of course, the only one whose gaze hadn't changed was Kloxolk. He knew many of the rumors, and all that the Wizard said merely confirmed these rumors.

"This kept the people of Oz from opposing me, and it gave me a chance to search for the Grimmerie. I grew old looking for that magical book. But I never found it, and I feared that the people of Oz would become more and more of a threat. Fortunately, my powerful friends helped me procure three young girls who would be perfect candidates for replacement of the Three Adepts. They did their jobs well, but one of them resisted. She furthermore, I believe, found one of the Golden Wonders. After a while, I finally deduced that she had the Grimmerie as well. I sent my soldiers to capture her, but they failed. They didn't even find the Grimmerie. It was then that..."

"That what?" insisted the General.

"Dorothy came to Oz." the Wizard said, his voice breaking in sadness. "I ordered her to kill the person I feared had the Grimmerie and return it to me."

"Wait, who was this person?" Kloxolk asked.

"The Wicked Witch of the West."

"You knew her?"

"I...I met her." the Wizard answered, but his voice was even more broken with sadness.

"She opposed you and you had her killed." the General deduced.

The Wizard shook his head, a single tear welling up in his eye. He now walked off away from the table and sat down.

"But I would not be staying in Oz for long, for Dorothy revealed myself and I was forced to give to her companions what I could that would prove that they had the gifts they wanted." He paused for a moment of long, deep thought, during which he dabbed a handkerchief on his eyes. "I discovered that my actions had brought about some good, but that I had killed that good. In the pretense of giving Dorothy a way back home, I got my balloon out of hiding and prepared to leave. I finally did return to Omaha, but without her.

"My life was pointless now. I had killed the only person I could have ever loved, I had made everyone's lives just as miserable as my life had been in Omaha, and my rule was all for naught since it was gone: it was even more worthless since I had neither the book nor the Wonders. I'm not sure what happened afterward...perhaps, because of grief, I became mad for a while. I wrote a letter to the one I had killed, along with a great book of memoirs that had in meticulous detail everything that had transpired in my life. Once it was all done, I took the book and the letter, along with a few souvenirs I had taken from Oz - a pair of the green-shaded glasses I had commanded all people of the Emerald City should wear, the Golden Dagger, a magical red rose that I'm sure lost all of its power upon entering my world, and a bag of magical artifacts that I had saved for someone, all worthless now - and put them in a trunk beneath the stairs of my home.

"Yes, upon returning to Omaha, I found the place where I was born: the Diggs residence. I discovered that Diggs had lived there after my family had been killed, and I regretted that I had ever done the evil things that I had done, since there had been a chance that I had given up to live a normal life. I left Omaha and came to California, where I tried to kill myself by drowning. It didn't work, and I felt completely worthless. There was only one thing left that I was any good at, and so I returned to Omaha to continue the circus. But an earthquake occurred, and I was taken back to Oz, and the rest is history."

* * *

Another long series of minutes of dead silence followed. No one knew exactly how to respond to what had just been said. No one dared to say anything either, for what was there to be said? What could one say when a friend, believed to be trusted beyond measure, reveals himself to be the worst tyrant known to history?

The General bowed his head in respect to those who had died, those who the Wizard had killed.

"Wait!" a voice spoke up. This was from a very old human, dressed in ragged, frayed and shaggy clothing with a long, scraggly white beard. "If you're as bad as you say you are, how come you never tried to hurt Dorothy?"

"I...I don't know." the Wizard replied, an empty look on his face. "I don't think there's a clear answer to that question, though I feel that she has some kind of magic. Not the kind that Glinda uses, but a real magic: friendship."

"She doesn't seem friendly to me." the General said with sarcasm in his voice.

"She's a sweet person, deep down inside," the Wizard said. "It was nothing short of a miracle that saved her from our first encounter. She was saved from all sorts of danger, all because she's a sweet, kind, friendly person. I could have killed her, or worse...ah, she really doesn't know just how lucky, or powerful, she really is."

Silence followed once again.

"So," the Scarecrow spoke up. "Where does that leave us now?"

"Ozma told me about Glinda's brief visit," the Wizard said to the General. "I believe if we can't trust Glinda, we can't trust anyone. So I reckon you'll need all the help you can get."

"And what help could you possibly give?" Kloxolk asked with contempt.

"Knowledge." he replied, tapping his temple with his finger. Apparently he was back to his usual self again. "Did you think all I did in Oz was sit in my throne-room and throw my voice around while I was ruling?"

"Hardly." answered the General sarcastically.

"As I said," the Wizard continued. "I wanted to find power to consolidate my rule. That book, the Grimmerie, is from my world. A wizard from my world brought it here, years ago."

"How does the Grimmerie help us?" Kloxolk added. "If it's a book of magic, then it is as helpful as any other book. That fortress is still leeching all magic out of Oz."

"It's not from Oz, though." the Wizard stated. "It's from my world. It may not be affected by the crystals the same way as the land of Oz is, since those crystals were made by someone from this world, not my world. If we could find it, I could read it: only one from my world can read it. It would give me power. Think about it."

"And once you have this power," Kloxolk said suspiciously. "What will keep you from just betraying us by taking power back?"

"We have a common enemy, old timer." the Wizard said friendly, though the General did not look him in the eye. "You're looking for the Golden Wonders, I take it. I saw the way you looked at me when I mentioned them. Those crystals are his sign. If I had power, like the power the Grimmerie could give me, we could find those Golden Wonders and destroy them before Ikol can..."

"**NO!**" A look of panic shot across the General's face. In what seemed like an instant and beyond his normal abilities, he lept across the table and tackled the Wizard to the ground, throwing his flesh hand over his mouth.

But it was too late. The word had been said.

"How dare you!" the Ozma cried, but her voice was breaking, as if she could feel the power of the word.

"Did he just...?" the Scarecrow asked.

"I believe he did." the Pumpkin-head answered.

"How frightful!" the Lion added.

"How could he!" cried the Hungry Tiger.

"Who's Ik...?" the Shaggy Man began.

"**DON'T YOU SAY IT TOO!**" the General bellowed.

"What's all the hub-bub about?" he asked again.

"That was his name! The name the Traitor, the Plague, gave himself and hexed so that his power would grow with each time it was spoken." The General got to his feet, looking contemptuously at the Wizard of Oz.

"This fool has spoken the name that should never have been spoken, and doomed us all."

* * *

Far away, in the deep places of Oz, where light totally failed, there was a cave. Nothing lived here, for nothing could live here. The cave was lined with huge crystals, most of them clear as glass. Like those in the Vinkus, these crystals leeched the life and magic from all that was around them.

A fitting end for the one who created them.

In the center of the enormous cave there sat a great throne made of crystal and upon that throne a great many crystals fitted like some ice-like flower, shooting its spires out in all directions. The dead light did not shine in the darkness, it just glowed, giving off no light but showing the total absence of light.

Within the depths of the largest crystal on the throne came the gleam of two red eyes. They did not blink, for they could not blink. All power and life had been drained from the revenant now trapped in the very crystals he had made to enslave and destroy all the worlds.

"_Ikol..._"

Even as the Wizard of Oz spoke the words, so far away that the wind could never have brought it to this dead place, the very being he named stirred within his prison. The eyes were now sharply glowing from within the crystal prison. The magic he had cast around his name held true, even though he had been bound for thousands of years in his own prison, bound by a being of lesser power.

And now it was coming to his rescue.

The crystals began to fracture and to crack. In the dead silence of his prison, the sound of cracking crystals was like an explosion. Soft, golden light shone from the cracks in his prison as his power once again was rising. His servants had been at work, both in Oz and in the Other World. All was in readiness.

His plan worked perfectly.

The crystals exploded off from his prison. He could move. It felt good to move after so long, so many thousands of years imprisoned. He flexed the muscle of his power and his prison shattered as if it were nothing more than rotten wood.

He was free.

Now it was time. Now the pitiful spawn of Lurline would see why they had been mistaken. He would bring them all to their knees, and take from them what they cherished: their lives. With all that power in his hands, it would be a small task to reorder the worlds in a perfect image.

His image.

And all that was now within his hands.

* * *

**(Horay for more epic cliffhangers! The bad guy is free, but is the Wizard really sincere? Can he be trusted? And what the Oz happened to Rain and Dorothy back at Kiamo Ko?)**


	14. When A Witch Cries

**Chapter Thirteen - When A Witch Cries**

Dorothy must have knelt at the side of the girl called Rain for hours on end. Not out of pity or any altruistic desire to help, but pure dread. The mutation Rain endured when she put on the hat was enough to strike fear back into Dorothy's heart. She wanted to run away screaming and crying or to grab that bucket and bash in Rain's head.

Suddenly, the green thing started to move. A hand reached out for the robes that lay on the ground and gathered them to itself, casting aside Rain's black robe and throwing the old ones over her thin, bony shoulders. The thing now stood up to her full height, much taller than Rain, almost as tall as Kloxolk was, in fact.

She was still green, though.

Dorothy started to fear the worst. Could it have been? No, it couldn't have been, could it?

The black-clad figure then turned to Dorothy. The face was the same as that which had haunted her dreams those first few months after her first arrival in Oz. Sharp, angular, with pronounced cheek-bones, black lips stretched in a hateful grimace and eyes that blazed with a fierce fire.

"**YOU!**" a harsh, serrated but grown woman's voice growled.

There was no more doubt in Dorothy's mind. It was her.

"You little brat!" the Witch screamed. "You finally killed me, but then you go and bring me back! Why do you torment me? What did I do to you to deserve this, or anything? You killed my sister, you killed my pets, you bring death wherever you go! WHY? And even worse, **WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?**"

"I didn't!" Dorothy screamed, as if for her life.

"Why am I here, then? I didn't want to live, I don't want anything from this world, except to leave it! You finally give that to me, and then you go and rob it from me! I ought to break your scrawny little neck, you brat!"

Dorothy started running, but she knew there was no hope. She was trapped here, and the Witch was even madder than before.

"I didn't mean to kill you!" Dorothy cried back, not even daring to stop to catch her breath. "I didn't even want to bring you back. We'd all plain forgotten about you, and..."

"Don't lie to me! I've had enough of people and their lies!"

"Please, just forgive me, I didn't mean to kill you!"

The Witch jumped upon Dorothy, striking her with her fists.

"How _DARE_ you ask forgiveness from **ME!**"

"Well, that's what people do when they've done something bad to someone else," Dorothy said. "They ask for forgiveness and..."

"**WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU SHOULD GET FROM ME WHAT WAS ALWAYS DENIED ME? HOW CAN I FORGIVE YOU WHEN NO ONE FORGAVE ME!**"

She erupted into screams, still striking Dorothy with her fists in her fury. She then turned to the wall and threw her face against it.

"Damn these tears!" she wailed. "They burn every time!"

Dorothy dared to look up and saw that the Witch was crying. Her hands dared not go up to the face, for the tears were burning into her eyes, since they were of water. But it was causing blood to pour down her face. She tried to put her hand on her shoulder for comfort, but was struck back by a strong blow from her hand.

For some strange reason, Dorothy didn't seem that afraid anymore. She had always imagined the Witch to be some angry old crone who was all evil and had not a shred of goodness or emotion in her. But seeing her cry broke all of that. Was this ugly, green thing really all as bad as they made it out to be? The Wizard said she was, as had everyone else in Oz.

But all their word seemed insignificant against this green-skinned woman, crying her eyes out.

Even worse was the reason why she was wailing.

She wanted to die.

That made no sense. Nobody in their right mind would really want to die. Life was just too pretty to want to leave it and all of its beauty. What kind of unhappy, hopeless thing would be so weary of life that they would willingly want to die?

Silence followed as Dorothy tried to wrap her little mind around the thought of it.

* * *

"So what happens now?" Dorothy asked gloomily.

"What do you mean?" the Witch asked.

"Exactly that. What happens now?"

"Nothing! Don't you get it?" she snapped back. "There's nothing left! Now leave me alone before I burn you alive."

"How about Rainy?"

The Witch cackled in apoplectic surprise. "What the hell are you babbling about?"

"Th' other girl, the one called Rain." Dorothy returned. "Where's she at?"

"You stupid brat! Don't you understand? She's not here anymore, its the Wicked old Witch! Now go before I sick the Monkeys on you!"

"They're not yours no more. They're free."

"Just get the hell away from me!"

Dorothy said no more, and left quietly, feeling sad in her heart that something had happened that she could have prevented. But this made her feel bad because there was a real person, not just some wicked thing, living inside that hideous green body, and what about Rain? She was somewhere inside, she figured, but exactly how to get it out, she did not know.

"**WAIT!**" a voice called out. The tall figure of the Witch then came back and ran over to where Dorothy stood. She flinched, fearing some other injury. But what she saw was rather disturbing. The green figure seemed to be shifting personalities, both of which shared the same body, but spoke with different voices. One was the Witch, but the other one seemed like Rain's voice. As one spoke, the other would interject with another voice that was contradictory to what the first had said.

"Princess, don't leave yet." a second voice spoke from within the Witch's body. "It's Rain, we're both inside..."

"Didn't I tell you to leave me, you brat?" the Witch's voice barked. "Now go! I've half a mind to..."

"We have to get back, perhaps when Glinda returns she can..."

"Don't make me tell you again!"

"Don't listen to her, just take me back to the city!"

"**LEAVE, YOU LITTLE TROLLOP!**"

The last words were directed both at Dorothy and at the other voice within the Witch, and the two began to argue within themselves until they lost strength and fainted from exhaustion.

There Dorothy sat, in the musty hall of Kiamo Ko, with the body of her mortal enemy at her side, not knowing what to minutes ticked by fast, then turning into hours, and Dorothy had forgotten about the General and the plan he had embarked upon. She didn't even notice them fly over Kiamo Ko searching for them on their way back to the Emerald City. Everything going on in the outside world seemed very far away, very detached: this was reality, this hall inside Kiamo Ko, where the past had come to life again and was returning to repay Dorothy for her crime.

But it wasn't a crime, she told herself. I did it so I could get home, and I was helping the Wizard, and I didn't know any better, and I just wanted to apologize. But it didn't change the fact that the woman was dead at her hand. And now here she was again, alive and angrier than before.

What could she do?

* * *

"_Ikol..._"

The moment the Wizard spoke the Unspoken Name of the Nameless Traitor, it seemed to echo silently across the land, yet with all the power of a freight train. Rivers hushed their babbling, birds ceased their singing and all the beasts made no noise.

In Kiamo Ko, the voice seemed to shatter the timeless void into which they were now trapped, bringing them back into reality. The Witch was startled out of her exhaustive state, and looked about like a hunter on the prowl. Immediately she ran up towards the East Tower, and came back in a fury.

"Where's my broom? Where's my cloak? What have you done with the Book?"

"I don't know!"

"What about the glass, huh? I suppose you lost the Slippers, too!"

"I don't know!" Dorothy whined again.

The Witch made a face and mocked her. "Don't you get it? The name has been said, we've got to go!"

Seizing Dorothy by the wrist, she ran to the gate of the castle.

It seemed that they would have to walk.

* * *

**(Elphaba lives! But she's not the musical Elphaba at all. She's the insane, atheistic, evil Elphaba from the book [not the evil crone from the movie]. Rain will, for the foreseeable future, represent the good, innocent, powerful Elphaba from the musical. Yes, my Elphaba is very complex. She's not just wholly evil or wholly "misunderstood". It's all part of my own philosophical battle with Elphaba, one that I'm still trying to sort out and win. Next chapter, we go some place new!)**


	15. An Unlikely Arrangement

**(AN: [WARNING: SPOILER ALERTS FROM WICKED THE BOOK!] Yes, Elphaba is suicidal! She was suicidal in the book after Fiyero died, why else did she have blood on her wrists? And why was her only goal not to help the Animals but to get forgiveness from Fiyero's widow and then just go off somewhere by herself and wait for death? She's clearly suicidal, which means she's not in her right mind. lol. She's mad in more than one definition. I know, how rude. Just read on, there's a little adventure brewing here-abouts)**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen - An Unlikely Arrangement**

Chaos was in the Emerald Palace.

People were marshaling from Gilikin, lead by Khyorke. With them also was the Woggle-Bug and his students: all of them were huge, ripped and muscle-bound, but were so dumb they made bricks seem like geniuses. The Insect-professor seemed nervous, and tried very hard to keep his stupid students together, who were mesmerized by the slightest sight of anything shiny.

On the other side, Boq arrived with an army of Munchkins, who were settled in the eastern half of the city. Boq, as the Mayor of Center Munch, the _de facto_ capital of Munchkinland, was with Khyorke and Kloxolk, the leaders of their little resistance force.

No sign of Aidan or Ruddrix had appeared.

"This is all we have?" The General asked. "This isn't enough!"

"It's all we can muster." Boq said. "Most of the Munchkins are busy defending their families. And..."

"And what?"

"Some of them are speaking of revolt." he said. "I don't know if we can keep order unless we keep at least a small garrison still there. The sherrifs and all."

"It's okay." Kloxolk admitted. He then turned to Khyorke. "Is the Gilikin militia assembled?"

"Yes, General." the Hippogryph nodded. "Though this Insect insisted to speak with the Ozma."

"For what?"

"My students!" the Woggle-Bug cried. "We ran out of pills! And now this happened!"

"What?"

"My sports college!" cried the Woggle-Bug. "We give the students pills so they learn all the book-learning and then they spend day after day in sports. But we ran out of pills, and what's worse...the students have forgotten everything! Look at them!"

Kloxolk had to admit it. The students had vacant expressions, as if they were huge, muscular children.

"Some of them can't even speak properly!" the Bug whined.

"I'll speak to the Ozma," Kloxolk assuaged. At once, almost as soon as he spoke, Ozma appeared. He limped over to her side. "Ozma, please. Someone wants to speak with you."

"Be silent." she said, keeping her gaze away from him. "I will not be bothered by you anymore."

"How long will you choose to shut your eyes? Now that the name has been said, I fear it is only a matter of time until his full strength returns. If that should happen, who knows? He might even return to this world and do what he attempted to..."

"Silence! I demand silence!" Ozma ordered. But her voice was quivering. "You've made nothing but trouble since you've arrived in Oz. I'm starting to think that you might be the cause of all this: there's no castle or Ikol or... will you stop flinching?" The General flinched when she said the name. "As I was saying, there's none of that mess you're talking about and you're just a rabble-rouser."

"Your Majesty," the General bowed clumsily. "I would never dare to cause trouble merely for trouble-sake. Everything I have done is strictly for the protection and safety of our great nations, your Majesty."

"And all that you have caused has been discord and disorder. Clearly you are not what you claim to be!"

"Nor are _**you**_, Ozma! Though I do not believe the lies those two said about you being an impostor, you clearly do not seem to have Oz's best interests at heart."

"How dare you!"

Just then, the huge green doors were thrown open. A host of flying Monkeys filled the upper ceiling of the Throne Room. With them was a large brown eagle with two people in its claws. The eagle dropped them to the ground, and then landed just before Kloxolk. At his side one of the monkeys, obviously their leader, landed. On his head was propped haphazardly a cap of shimmering gold.

"Kirriku!" Kloxolk called out to the Roc. "What brings you here?"

"I was flying in the sky and saw dark clouds over Oz," the Roc answered, in a deep, melodic, airy voice. "I flew over the desert and found that I could pass through Oz. When I flew over the Vinkus, I was attacked. These Monkeys rescued me, and they told me to bring these people here."

Kloxolk looked down at the people Kirriku spoke of.

One was Dorothy, looking very fearful and trembling all over. The other was a tall woman in black with a black, pointed hat. She also had green skin. Kloxolk almost thought it was Rain, but he realized that there was something different about her.

"Who are you?" shouted Kloxolk, flesh-hand reaching for his sword.

"That's her!" shouted Boq.

"Who?" asked the Woggle-Bug.

"Rain?" Ozma asked.

"She's not here anymore." spoke the Witch.

"You came back?" Kloxolk asked, realizing who this could be.

"It was not my idea," she replied, not recognizing the General she had met those many years ago. She cracked her neck and then looked at him with an earnest look. "The Wonders, where are they?"

"We don't know." the General added. "If we had the Golden..." Just then he looked at the Monkey with the Golden Cap. "Is that the Golden Cap?"

"Yes," Chistery said. "But it's power was broken, thanks to Glinda."

"A good thing, too." the General nodded. "But we don't have any idea where the other ones are. And what's more, the Enemy has returned..." He looked at the hum-bug cowering behind Ozma. "Thanks to the Wizard!"

The Witch jumped at the Wizard, trying to attack him with her fists, but the General's strong, clock-work arm pulled her away from the Wizard.

"Let me kill him!" she growled. "He's an evil man!"

The General tossed her to the green floor. "Yes, but there's nothing to be gained by fighting."

"I can help!" the Wizard spoke up.

"How?" Kloxolk asked incredulously. "You brought this upon us!"

"He did?" the Witch asked, in a very familiar, friendly voice.

"Yes, he spoke the name."

"You bastard!" the harsh, Witch's voice said, trying once again to attack the Wizard.

"But I know where one of the Wonders are at!"

Kloxolk turned to the Wizard with intent, the green Witch coming up from the rear.

"The Dagger." he added.

"Where?" Kloxolk and the Witch asked at the same time.

"Well, uh, it's safe, so it doesn't matter any how..."

"**WHERE?**"

"Oh, okay. It's in my world."

"What do you mean?" quoth the General.

"When I killed Pastorius, I used the Golden Dagger to do it. Mombi told me it had some kind of enchantment upon it, powerful enough to kill anyone or anything. It worked, it really did. I had a little bit of power, and had hoped to gain more by gathering the best and brightest sorcerers and sorceresses in the land as my servants, who could go around looking for the Wonders for me. But when I returned to my world, I took the Dagger with me. I knew I'd done wrong, and I took it to my world to be certain that nobody would ever find it and bring about so much sadness thereby."

"A last act of self-righteousness before your failed suicide?" asked the Witch.

The Wizard said nothing, but was awed by her answer and by...well, her in fact.

"But how do we even get to the other world?" asked Kloxolk.

"Excuse me," said the Ozma. "But who are you?"

"Who me?" the Witch asked. "Ha! You mean you've never heard? Well, it doesn't matter, because I'm dead anyhow."

"Besides," the Wizard interjected. "Even if we could find a way back to my world, it'd be suicide to go back there."

"Explain." Kloxolk said.

"Well, Glinda told me a few things in the years since I returned to Oz." he began. "For one, Ozians cannot leave Oz and go into the World of Man, because then the magic that makes them alive is dispersed."

"Come again?" asked the General.

"Well, you know about the Ozma, right? And when there's one on the throne, nobody can die, right?"

"Let me test that theory." sarcastically spoke the Witch, gazing menacingly at Dorothy.

"And, by virtue of this being a fairy world, all sorts of things happen here that could never happen in our world. Like a man of straw, or a man of tin, or a girl of quilt or talking animals. In my world, none of these things exist, and so to send anyone from Oz to my world would undo the magic that keeps you alive and, well, existent here."

"What about non-Ozians?" Kloxolk added, drawing his sword to half-mast in its hilt.

"Well, Dorothy and I...and others...came here, went back, and have gone here and back again and come back afterward."

"But?"

"But, well..." The Wizard chuckled. "...look, you really don't know anything about my world, do you, stranger?"

"Enlighten me." Kloxolk was losing his patience.

"Well, you see, I first arrived in Oz in the 1800s, and I went back in 1900. According to time the way people back home measure it, its been a hundred years since I returned and came back to Oz. In Oz, I don't age any more than what I am now because of the Ozma. But if I were to go back there, I'd shrivel up and die the moment I set foot on Earth."

"I'd go...if there was a way." Dorothy said. "I'd been there once before, and didn't age up anymore than a lady. So I guess t'wouldn't hurt me none ta go back."

"No, I'll go." the Witch said.

"But you're Ozian." said the General.

"So what? If I die, it'll be what I want!" She then grumbled beneath her breath; "And you wouldn't miss me any if I did, either."

"I don' wanna go with the Witch!" Dorothy whined.

"You might not die." the Wizard said, musing out loud while pointing to the Witch.

"Princess, I don't think we have much of a choice." the General said to Dorothy. "Go with her, regardless of what qualms you may have against each other."

"Qualms?" queried the Witch, punctuating her question with a cackle. "It's more than that; she killed me!"

"People don't die in Oz." Ozma said with a titter of laughter. "The Ozma keeps them alive."

"Proof that you're a fake." the Witch shot back.

"But you're still alive..." the Wizard said.

The Witch turned on the spot and retreated towards the North Tower. Kloxolk followed as best as his clock-work leg could carry him.

* * *

He finally caught up with them at the North Tower. The Witch was kneeling before the gathering darkness in the West, at the opening window of the tower.

"Do you remember me, madam?" he asked, standing before her after his long hike up the stairs.

The Witch turned to look at him, and shook her head in silence.

"You had a name before, once...didn't you?" he asked, kneeling at her side. "You answered to that name..."

She said nothing, keeping her eyes focused on the west.

"Elphaba."

The face turned to meet the General. For all the hype they put into saying that she was hideous and ugly, her face wasn't that grotesque to behold, even by reason of age. In fact, if he were a few years younger, he would have found her attractive...

Regardless of the green skin.

"What did you call me?" she asked, almost gasping.

"That was your name," he said. "A long time ago, when we first met."

She stared in silent shock, trying hard to remember what had happened.

"I don't remember..." she answered.

"But you remember your name, that should be enough for now." the General said.

"Well, lookie what we have here." an all-too well-heard and annoying voice said from behind them.

The General turned an irritated glance back over his shoulder to see Dorothy standing upon the landing of the stairs.

"I 'new he was trubbl'." she said. "Look at 'im, comfurtin' th' Witch, like she's real, decent folk."

"Princess, I know you chose to come with us," the General said. "But you could exercise a bit more in regards to manners."

"Whah?" she asked.

"Because I'll kill you unless you tell me what you did with the Book!" the Witch said, rising to her feet and pinning Dorothy against the wall with one hand.

"What book?" she asked.

"Don't play stupid with me! The Book! The one the Wizard wanted you to steal from me!"

"I didn't even take the book!" Dorothy whined. "It was too heavy to carry!"

"You lie!" the Witch growled, striking Dorothy across the face. The little girl was thrown back almost to the ledge of the tower. The General walked over and pulled her away and onto her feet.

But the Witch was simply glaring down at her hands.

"What have you done to me?" she asked.

"Huh?" Dorothy asked stupidly.

"I said what have you done to me?" she roared, at no one in particular. "I was never this powerful!"

"It's Rainy..."

"Rain." Kloxolk corrected Dorothy.

"Right, her." Dorothy continued, disregarding his interruption. "She has magic, and th' Witch has her body."

A devious smile came across the Witch's face. Two hands then thrust outward towards one of the tall windows. Fire flew from her fingers and shot out to the window but stopped just a few feet out of the window. A speck of black appeared between the two pillars of fire: not like a distant object in the sky, but like a hole in the world. The flames fed it, as it slowly grew bigger and wider. Soon it had turned into a fiery maelstrom, twisting and turning just a few feet out of the door.

"This should work." the Witch said menacingly. She then turned to the General. "Give me the little pretty."

Kloxolk released Dorothy, who now was starting to tremble with fear.

"I, uh..." she giggled. "I don' think this here's such a good idear..."

"Too late to turn back now!" the Witch cried. Without further ado, she lept into the maelstrom, a cackle escaping her lips as the two figures vanished into the fire.

* * *

**(Where are they going? Will they end up dead? What will happen to Oz now that the bad guy is awake? Horay for more epic cliff-hangers!)**


	16. Traveling Through the Other World

**(AN: And here we find out what happens to our unlikely pair: the murderer and the Witch. There's a little reference to Wicked the Musical - Elphaba's reaction, not mine. Enjoy. Oh, and there's a little bit of a race-oriented encounter that might offend certain people. I decided on it because 1] Dorothy has exhibited racist behavior in the Oz series - particularly _The Wishing Horse of Oz_ and _The Patchwork Girl of Oz_, 2] even if those were not racist actions, she comes from a time before the Equal Rights movement - 1900 - where racism was more or less a way of life, and therefore she wouldn't find anything wrong with that behavior, though obviously it IS wrong. Lastly, 3] the other reason is to show my own sentiments on the subject of race, because I do see a double-standard in our society. Those who consider themselves "outcast" minorities expect equal treatment, but yet are unwilling to give it themselves.)**

**(Enjoy. And I do not own Bob Seger either.)**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen - Traveling Through the Other World**

It was rather dangerous, to be quite honest.

Leaping out of the tallest tower in the Emerald Palace into a vortex of fire, hoping that it would transport them to another world.

Because if it didn't, they'd be dead before they hit the ground.

Was it faith that made the Witch so reckless? Faith in the untested powers of this body into which she had been resurrected into against her will? She prided herself on having no faith at all: that was for the weaker people, those who followed after self-proclaimed gods and wizards.

Perhaps it was nihilism. In the madness of her later life, she grew to hate everything in Oz and seek death.

Maybe that was why she lept into the portal so easily, with no fear or qualms.

She was hoping that she would die, and therefore take the foe Dorothy with her.

The two collapsed on a wooden floor that had not been there when they jumped through.

Damn it, the Witch said to herself in her mind.

This must have worked.

Was this Earth?

It looked very strange. They were standing upon a stage, hidden behind the side-lines of the stage. People were bustling to get ready for the rising of the curtain.

"What the hell?" The Witch asked angrily, looking at all the weird faces. The people didn't seem to notice her, which was highly irregular: everybody noticed a green woman in Oz. Why would this world be any different?

"Oooh, they're gonna put on a play." Dorothy clapped excitedly. "C'mon, let's find ourselfs a seat."

"We have our mission..." a voice stated from within the Witch's body.

"Oh, we c'n spare a few minutes t' see this here play." Dorothy said, almost with complete ease. She had forgotten in whose company she was with.

Her would-be murder-victim.

But there was something all too friendly, all too familiar, about the voice that said "We have our mission..." that put Dorothy at ease.

Which was why she had grabbed hold of the green woman's sleeve and carried her into the audience.

It turned out that it was more than a few minutes they spent. Through almost three hours the two sat in a packed theater while the oddly-dressed actors in their wigs and make-up with their fancy stage, lighting and effects, acted out a comedy that the two suddenly realized was something of a caricature of their lives in Oz.

* * *

Later, the two of them were walking out of the large theater building.

"That was atrocious!" the Witch commented. "They made me into such a little goody-goody, all emotions and inaction. Ha! Like I ever wanted people to love me, I never gave a damn! Such a foolish portrayal of me having such blind faith in that humbug-tyrant!"

Dorothy said no word. It was strange, usually she would be rising to defend the Wizard's name. But she remained silent.

"And then they try to pull it off like I'm not even allergic to water. And that sappy, happy ending; like life is ever that optimistic." the Witch continued to rant. "Insult!"

Still, no words came from the little girl at her side.

"What the hell is your problem?" the Witch asked.

Dorothy turned to look at the Witch. But there was something different about her. She didn't notice until now how tall she really was: she must hunch to give her enemies the illusion of a serpent preparing to strike. But that was silly, Dorothy told herself. She knew the Witch was tall...

But there it was...she kept calling her "the Witch."

Just now she had seen a play where they called "the Witch" by a different name. Could she dare to think it was truth, or that it was just a silly invention of these playwrights?

Try as she may to remember the dagger-sharp glances the Witch had given her all those years ago, the harsh, serrated voice, the screeching cackle, the threats...

Dorothy Gale could not help but look at this green woman standing before her.

There was something different about her, yet nothing had changed at all. The woman was still green, but it almost seemed to shimmer in the lights of the city. Her face was keen, sharp and angular, though dulled and lined with some age, but she was not warty or ugly even in the most superficial terms.

As much as it seemed a crime against nature to say so...

She thought the Witch...the green woman at her side, was more or less...

Beautiful.

"What are you staring at?" the Witch hissed at Dorothy.

"There's something diff'rent 'bout you." Dorothy said, with earnestness in her voice.

The Witch gave a disgusted look. "I hate your earnest piety. No one is that good."

Dorothy turned away. The vision did not fade, though the woman spoke with all the same harshness as the Witch.

"So, what do we have to do here again?" Dorothy asked.

"We're looking for the Wizard's house." the second voice within the Witch's body spoke. "Where do you think it is?"

"I'm not sure," Dorothy said. "He said it was in Omaha, back when I firs' met 'im, but its been so long since I've been here, and since he told me. I can't recall nuthin'."

By this time, they had exited the theater building. As they stood there, they saw a small sign that advertised the play they had just seen. It listed the name of the theater they had just left: Ford Center Theater, East Chicago.

"Wait, I remember this!" Dorothy said.

"What?" asked the Aileena-voice.

"Chicagah." the little girl said, pointing to the sign. "It's in Illinoiz. We're too far east."

"Beats me, I know nothing of your world." said the nicer voice.

"Well, we gotta head west." Dorothy said.

"How?" a sterner voice asked. "I can't fly, I have no magic here. And besides, why am I even still alive? I thought I'd be dead for certain once I came into this world. I thought the lack of magic unraveled Ozians."

"Hmm, now that _is_ strange." Dorothy said.

"Still," the first voice said. "How are we getting to Omaha?"

As if by magic, the answer parked its way outside the theater.

"We'll take the bus!" Dorothy exclaimed.

* * *

The bus they found was bound from Chicago to Phoenix, but they would make a stop in Omaha Nebraska. The two ladies walked onto the bus and were about to find seats when the driver cleared his throat.

"Yes sir?" Dorothy asked.

"I believe this is the part where you pay your fare." the dark-skinned driver stated.

Here they were stuck. Dorothy had no Earth money, it was all worthless in Oz, and even if she did, it had been so long, her coins were probably out of date and therefore useless. The Witch absentmindedly slid a hand into her pocket and found it resting on a wad of paper. Taking it out, she saw a few notes of green paper with the faces of men with white hair that reminded her somewhat of a cross between the Wizard and somebody else...

"That'll do." the driver said, taking the money from the Witch. He eyed her green skin for a moment, and then began counting the bills. There happened to be just enough.

"Enjoy the trip, ladies." the man said with a somewhat cheesy smile as he pocketed the money.

The two made their way down the bus, looking for an empty seat. The Witch saw many eyes turning to her; they were, of course, glaring at her green skin. Dorothy, on the other hand, was looking back at them.

"Excuse me," she said, stopping by a seat inhabited by a rotund, middle-aged woman with dark skin. "Can I please have your seat?"

"Excuse me, honey, but no." the woman replied, a little annoyed.

"But you know you can't sit up here like this." Dorothy said, a little confused.

"I can sit wherever I want to, b*tch." the woman answered, her tone taking offense.

"But, you're colored..."

Every eye on the bus turned towards Dorothy. Even the Witch was glaring at her menacingly.

"Oh hell no!" the woman said angrily, rising to her feet and waving a finger with righteous indignation. "I know you didn't just say what I think you said, whitey."

"What?" Dorothy asked, shocked by the woman's response.

"You mamma teach you talk like that?" barked the woman.

"How despicable." the first voice, the nice voice that came out of the green woman's body, said at Dorothy.

"Hey, you just shut yo' mouth, green-bean." the angry woman said.

Now it was the Witch's turn to be angry.

"So its wrong it treat a person inferior if they have different colored skin, but only if its not _GREEN_, is that what you're saying?"

"B*tch, you betta be gettin' yo cabbage-ass outta my face before I..."

"What?" the Witch hissed. "What will you do to me, huh? You little **HYPOCRITE!**"

A green hand raised over the woman, who was now covering her face in terror from the hideous visage of rage before her and screaming like a wild banshee. All eyes were turned to the green-skinned woman, whose risen hand was shaking. Something was holding it back.

Just then, the green-skinned woman lowered her hand and turned to those who looked at her.

"What are you looking at?" she barked at them, her voice now full of anger and embarrassment. "Judging by your glares, it must be wrong to treat colored people as inferior...is that all-inclusive or do you have a double-standard for green people?"

Nobody said a word.

It was terrifying. Even Dorothy, cowering behind one of the seats, felt ashamed of herself for starting this.

"Hey, will you shut up back there?" the driver, whose ears had been filled with white head-phones during the whole conversation, called back after hearing the first voice speak.

The green-skinned woman slowly made her way towards the back of the bus, dragging a shocked Dorothy after her. More glares came at them, as well as whisperings: none of them nice at all.

They sat themselves next to an old lady who must have been deaf, for she didn't hear a word they said and wore a smile on her face like she was enjoying the golden years of her life without a care in the world. The old lady then leaned over and tapped the green woman on the shoulder.

"You sure can stir up a commotion." she said with a smile on her old face.

"I don't cause commotions, I am one." the first voice said.

"That's plain to see." the old woman said aloud.

"Piss off." the second voice spoke.

Dorothy, who sat by the window, enclosed by this strange green woman, was lost in thought.

What she had just witnessed was something strange. She had witnessed the W...the green woman, turn into two different people. But this was nothing new. She remembered Kiamo Ko, when there were two voices speaking from within the green woman's body.

Just then, it dawned upon her...

Could it be that there were two different types of people trapped within this one body? The nicer, benevolent one who spoke with the soft voice, and the harsh, angry one who seemed angry at the world and only wanted death. Two wholly different sides of the same coin. Could it be that within the body of this green woman, the life-forces of the Witch and the girl she knew as Rain now existed?

Their...souls?

* * *

The rest of the journey was uneventful, to say the least. The other passengers seemed content to let what happened go unnoticed, or at least ignored. Nobody spoke to either of them, though. The Witch seemed to like being ignored, but did not like being so close to other people.

Dorothy, on the other hand, remained silent for most of the journey, simply staring out the windows as the city turned into the country. She wanted someone to talk with, but the green-skinned woman refused to speak to her, nor did the other passengers. The solitude was taking her toll on her.

She was starting to wish she had brought Toto along with her.

The bus was on the road for several hours. All seemed quiet and peaceful. They had just passed the city of Des Moines and were in the middle of nowhere. That's what it seemed like: just fields of grain for as far as they could see.

Then it happened.

The green woman was stirred out of a fitful nap by subdued sobs from her companion. She opened her steel blue eyes and turned to look at the little creature, her face downcast and breathing quickly.

"What the hell is your problem?" the Witch asked.

"I...have...to...to get off...the bus." the girl said, her voice breaking oddly.

"What is it?" the first voice, Rain's voice, asked. But the girl said nothing, still making noise though.

She had never been on a bus, and therefore did not know that there was an emergency stop cord that could be pulled to alert the driver that a passenger needed to make a quick stop.

The green woman got up and walked towards the front of the bus, taking Dorothy in tow. As the little girl alighted from where she sat, the woman thought she saw a dark stain upon the seat of the bus.

A dark red stain.

"Driver, stop!" Rain shouted. "Now! My friend is bleeding!"

"Huh?" the man said, removing an ear-plug from his ears.

"Stop this vehicle now before I kill you!" the Witch growled.

Without warning, the vehicle came to a screeching halt, sending the two standing women to the floor. Disgruntled groans issued from the other passengers, but the green woman picked up her traveling companion and hit the road.

Happy to be rid of the "trouble-makers", the bus drove off without warning.

"Well, this better be important." the second voice bemoaned. "We just missed our only means of..."

The woman saw that Dorothy was hunched over, gripping her lap as if in great pain.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she asked.

"Hurt..." was all the little girl said.

Just then, a strange thing happened. One that was strange even for those who lived in Oz.

Dorothy fell to the ground, crying out in agony. On the back-side of her dress was a dark stain of blood. But that was hardly as shocking as the change that occurred over her.

It was as the process of several years had just happened in a few seconds. Her limbs shot out, getting longer and bigger. Her hair also grew a few inches longer. Her dress was making small, imperceptible tearing sounds under the strain.

After a few seconds of such, the now adolescent Dorothy simply lay on the gravel, sighing and panting.

"What in Oz's name happened to you?" the first voice asked out of the green woman's mouth.

Slowly, Dorothy rose to her feet. But the face that the green woman saw was much different than the innocent one that haunted her every memory. It was fuller, with smaller cheeks that were no longer rosy but pock-marked with the scar of long-gone acne.

"I think..." the first voice said, changing in mid-sentence to the second, harsher voice. "...you've just grown about seven years."

There they were, stuck on the side of the road, a half-naked teenager and a green-skinned woman with multiple personalities.

"A right fine set of lunatics we are." the harsh voice said.

The young woman said nothing. She was curled up into a little ball with her arms around her knees.

"We're stranded in this strange world and now you're not even capable anymore!" the first voice then won out. "Come on, get up. We have to keep moving."

"I can't."

The voice that said it came from the young woman's mouth, but it was deeper than the annoyingly high-pitch yelp of Dorothy's usual voice.

"We have our task to do..." The first voice changed in mid-sentence. "...and we won't stop it just because you've grown seven years in a few moments."

But an hour more had passed and nothing so much had happened.

After that hour was spent, a small dot appeared on the horizon.

"Something's coming." the first voice said, rising from a pensive, kneeling silence she had been through for the past several minutes.

The noise was faint, but it sounded like the sound of a passing vehicle. They had gotten to recognize this sound, though the noise startled the green woman several times at first. After a while she got used to it, even when one would accidentally heave a piece of loose rock their way. One hit the green woman in the stomach, which made her rather furious. However, it was only a bruise and she soon walked it off.

As they waited, they saw the small dot turn into a vehicle: an old truck. It slowed up as it came down towards where the two women were sitting. It came to a stop, and the driver exited his still-running vehicle. He was of average height for a man in his late middle years, had a bristly mustache of grey and yellow hair and had a little bit of a gut to his stomach.

"You ladies need a ride?" the stranger asked in a distinctly South-eastern accent.

The green woman was about to say something when the stranger saw the young girl half-naked. He took out a jacket from his truck, walked over and placed it on the young woman's shoulders.

"My God, ma'am, what the hell happened to you?" he asked.

"She doesn't have any clothes that fit." the green-skinned woman.

"Well, I can't leave you out here on the side of the road," the stranger said. "Especially with your friend here half-nekked like that." He then opened the passenger-side door of his truck and let the two ladies climb their way into his vehicle.

They were back on the road again.

The woman didn't make eye contact with the stranger, though he gave her a few sideways glances. After all, it wasn't everyday you meet a woman with green skin. Dorothy was nodding off to sleep between the two. Just as a song entitled "_Turn the Page_" came on, the green-skinned woman asked a question. Picking this up, the stranger turned down the radio a bit and asked her to repeat her question.

"Why did you pick us up?" she asked.

"Oh, well, you know, 'Do unto others...'" he answered.

"We could be dangerous people, you know." she added.

"Well, now, there's a risk in everything ya do." he replied. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.

"**_Everyone has a responsibility to their fellow man, even if it hurts 'em in the process._**"

The green-skinned woman turned her eyes back out the window, and said no more

* * *

The Nebraska state line.

A few hours later, the stranger, who said he was from Tennessee, left them at a bus stop in Omaha, with a few bucks and his jacket upon Dorothy's back.

He said his goodbyes and went on his way.

The green-skinned woman was struck by this man's unnatural kindness. Why should anyone be kind to her, of all people? Especially those who believed in The Unnamed God, for it was certain that this Tennessean worshiped Him in some incarnation, did good deeds only to be noticed or because they felt obliged to do good for someone, as if they had a check-list that they were checking off. But this man was, or at least, in the Witch's twisted mind, appeared to be, genuinely interested in their predicament, giving them a lift, money from his own pocket and even the clothes off his back.

It didn't make sense to her how someone could be that good.

The two were now on their way through the streets of Omaha, looking for what they did not even know. The green-skinned woman found that, at the opportune moment of need, there would be just enough of the currency of this world for whatever need they had. She bought herself a thick black jacket, which made many give her uneasy glares, and a black scarf. She wrapped the scarf around her face and the hood of the jacket she threw over her head, obscuring from view her green skin.

But here they were: a teenager and a woman swathed from head to toe in black, which was highly impractical in such weather.

As they walked the street, the green woman noticed that her companion had halted. Turning around, she saw her bent over again, gasping in pain.

"Not this again." grumbled the Witch. A black-gloved hand gripped the aging adolescent on the shoulder and drug her into a dark alleyway. But it was still too exposed. Eyes from the transients and hoodlums who lived on the streets followed the dark-clad woman and her aging companion. They had to find some place to remain undisturbed for a while.

The green-skinned woman saw a beat-down shack of a place. It was very old, and looked ready to fall. Like most of the buildings in the area, it was dull and gray, but was even duller and more gray than the rest: it was old beyond old. The building also didn't look safe: the ceiling had caved in in some places, the door was broken in, and all the windows had long since shattered.

But there was one good thing about this lean-two of a place.

None of the bums would go near it.

Though that was hardly a point of comfort, it meant that the two would be undisturbed for quite some time. Her nails digging through the leather of the gloves and into the now adult-aged woman's shoulder, the Witch dragged Dorothy into the building and threw her into one of the old, moth-eaten, rotting chairs. The legs strained with the weight of the person thrown upon it while the Witch paced about uneasily.

"I knew you shouldn't have come here." the Witch growled. "You've been nothing but useless baggage ever since."

"I don't know what's going on, I can't help!" the woman protested. Her skin was cleared of acne, and the green woman was reminded disturbingly of someone close to her.

Disturbingly because the person it reminded her of was the person Dorothy had slain.

"Where the hell are we?" the green woman asked.

"Beats me." Dorothy responded.

Taking stock of the room, they saw that they were in what looked like a small parlor. Everything was old, graying and frayed, and the stairs that led to the upstairs level had caved in.

As she paced about, the green woman tripped on something.

She swore loudly and looked to see what it was that had tripped her.

An ancient picture-frame, now in pieces, lay where her foot had been.

She rose to her knees and examined what was left of it. The portrait inside had not been damaged: in fact, it had been well-preserved despite the long count of years since its creation. Now it was all brown and faded, with a very large family: a father, a mother and seven children. Up in the front was a young man of at least twenty years of age, very short and stocky for his age, with a straw hat, a pair of glasses and a bone-chillingly familiar smile on his face.

"This..." the green woman gasped. "This must have been the Wizard's house."

"But I thought he lived with th' Circus or whatever." Dorothy the woman suggested.

"He had to have had a family," she said. "Nothing comes about by itself."

"Then this was his family's house" Dorothy stated.

"Yes, now get back on that couch and stay there until I come and get you!" growled the green skinned woman, now turning back to her spite-filled voice.

Returning to the floor, she saw that the picture was just one piece of a large litter of things that had been unceremoniously dumped from an open trunk that rested beneath the broken stairs.

Obviously, someone had been here before.

With little real care or concern, the green-skinned woman began pawing her way through the items. She saw a pair of emerald-shaded glasses, and wedged between a piece of old, scraggly paper and a brown bag was something that glimmered of gold.

She reached for it like a beggar would for food, only to find that it was not anything Wondrous: simply a gold pocket watch. The lid was teetering open and she saw an old photograph of the same young man, surrounded by a group of carnival people. This she tossed away uselessly and continued her way through the items. The scraggly old paper she picked up and was about to throw away when she saw a glint of emerald from within. Curiously, she opened the paper up and discovered that it was an old letter.

Addressed to Elphaba.

_"My dear Elphaba,_

_"I don't know why I am writing this letter. Perhaps it is something inside me that has the desire to let it all out, regardless of who may see this note. It doesn't matter anymore: I'm on my way to die, and if there is an afterlife, I'll meet you there soon.  
_

_"I learned the truth far too late. If it wasn't for Dorothy, I would never have known it at all. You are my daughter, Elphaba._

_"I know this will shock you, but it is true. When I first came to Oz, I came by accident in my balloon, with no way of getting back home. I worked my way as a peddler and one day met a fine Munchkinlander woman whom I fancied. I found out later that she was the late Melena Thropp, your mother. I was a foolish young man, and had no idea about the consequences of my actions. But that is no excuse for them._

_"You are a special child, my girl. You will never belong fully with Oz because you have the blood of Earth from my veins, nor do you belong in my world because you are still of the magical world of Oz. It is this cause why you are able to read the Grimmerie, though only in portion, because you have control of the magic of both my world and of Oz._

_"But you are dead now, and I am on my way to die as well. I wanted you to know that I was a terrible father and an even worse Wizard: I let power get to my head and became the very oppressing, bigoted kind of person I had suffered under in my world._

_"It is all over, now. I have hidden the last of those things you sought here in this world, that 'he' may never find them again, and that its power will fade in time._

_"Farewell, my daughter, and forgive me."_

Dorothy wondered why there was so much silence coming from the stair-well. So, against orders, she walked over there and saw the green-skinned woman leaning over a letter. She could not see what was being read, but she feared that it was something very serious. The green-skinned woman was shaking all over, and her hands would not stay still.

She was about to ask what the letter was about when two things happened.

First, she remembered that the Witch-part of her had ordered her back to the couch to not return unless called for.

The second was the scream.

The green-skinned woman let out a hideous, heart-wrenching scream that made Dorothy cover her ears in fright.

She barely had time to run over to her side and keep her hands from going for the golden dagger lying on the floor.

"Please, stop!" Dorothy cried. "It ain't right!"

"I don't care!" the Witch said, straining to put her fingers on the dagger. "Right and wrong mean nothing to me! All I want is to die and its right in my grasp! Let go of me, you little b*tch!"

"What is wrong wit' you?" Dorothy said, her larger, mature body triumphing over the bony-thin green woman.

"Everything!" she growled. "That make you happy?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean!" scoffed the Witch. "How the hell am I supposed to forgive someone when nobody's forgiven me! How dare they ask me for forgiveness! That's something I cannot do, because to forgive has something to do with that travesty Unionism, which I'd sooner run naked through Oz than ever believe in! Ha, belief! The crutch of weak-minded fools, false-hope of some grand deliverance from the troubles of the world! Lies, all of it!"

"You ain't right in the head." Dorothy said.

"What if I am, huh?" the Witch growled. "Now I'm the bastard daughter of the Wizard too! But the Dagger..." There was a hunger in her voice, the likes of which Dorothy had never seen. She barely was able to stop her from grasping the Dagger.

Was it _the_ Dagger? The Golden Dagger?

Surely, for if the Witch grasped for it so, then surely she must believe in its power.

Wait, she _believed_ in its power?

"But you believe in your own magic and the power of that..." She was cut off.

"Belief? My own magic deceives me! I was never that good at it: a witch in name only. And there's no denying a power you can see and feel. That, you trollop, is **REAL** power!"

Just then, the earth shook.

"What the hell?" shouted the Witch.

"Outside!" Dorothy responded.

Those transients who were once fearful to enter the broken-down house now ran past them and sought some kind of shelter.

Behind them was the object of their fear.

Giant golems, made of rock and earth, with huge black crystals jutting out of their backs, were rampaging through the city, buildings crumbled in their wake.

"This is bad." the first voice said, finally triumphing out of the mess of the mind of the green witch.

"What are we..." Dorothy breathed, but suddenly stopped, gagging.

The Witch looked down and saw the woman start to expand, as she was going into the latter half of her life.

"It's hot in here," begged the middle-aged Dorothy, unbuttoning the jacket she wore slightly.

"Oh great," the Witch complained. "Now I've got to carry your sorry-self with me. What else could go wrong?"

As if in answer to her question, she saw a figure approach from the rank of the golems. He was dressed in a huge black jacket and looked as clean as the bums they encountered had been. But there was something not all that friendly about his stance, or the large book that he held in his hands.

"You!" the Witch shouted, pointing to the man, who walked through the doorway of the ruined house. "Give that to me!"

"Why?" he asked in return. "It's not yours, is it?"

"It isn't yours, either."

"Oh, but I need it. Or, in any case, my master needs it."

"Who are you? Who is your master?" the nicer voice asked.

"Name's Damien. As for my lord and master..." He chuckled. "You should know him. You're pretty much in the most part of the last half of this book...Elphaba."

Damien's words shocked her. How did the Grimmerie know her by name?

And did he really serve...?

"Ikol spoke to me in a dream," he said. "A few months ago. He told me I could find power if I found this book: the journal of some foolish Diggs fellow in his journey through Oz. Looking over his notes, I was able to help the master and he gave me this..." He held up his left hand, which was cradling a light that looked like a black speck of light.

"The Black Star, the spark that brought his crystals to life. And with a little digging here and there," He looked over at the broken stairs where the trunk had been opened up. "I found the book. With those big-boys outside making a mess of the city, we'll have another world ripe for the taking once we've swept up what's left of your little Oz."

He laughed then aloud. Dorothy put her hands over her ears. Though it was not as sharp and dissonant as Elphaba's cackle, Damien's mocking laughter was even worse: icy and cold, heartless, even.

"You should start running, you know," he said, his voice growing threatening and serious. "You're all about to die."

A flash of color and Elphaba had the brown bag in her hand, and she took off, Dorothy stumbling after her.

Once again, that hideous laugh came from Damien as he slowly walked after them.

There was no need to hurry. There was nowhere to run in this rundown house. He would catch them sooner or later.

The Witch and her murderer ran through hall to the kitchen, but found that there was no way out except for the front door. And that was no option. However, there was a small door that served as the opening for the dumbwaiter. The green woman shoved Dorothy into the compartment, threw the bag onto her rather roughly, then hopped in herself and started hand-over-hand pulling them up to the second level.

The loud thumping of an ax reminded them that Damien still lurked below.

"What are we gonna do?" Dorothy whined, falling out of the dumbwaiter once they reached the top floor. She was shaking all over, and her hair was starting to turn white.

The green-skinned woman crawled out onto a bed-room, whose ceiling was falling through. She knelt down and held out her hands, starting to speak something in a language Dorothy did not recognize. Slowly the fiery vortex was flickering to life.

But something was wrong.

First, the vortex was green rather than fiery orange.

Second, it was weak.

"It's not going to hold!" the nicer voice shouted at Dorothy. "We got to go through now before it collapses!"

But there was no answer. Turning around, she saw the little old form of Dorothy, shriveling into the dotage of old age.

Fate betrayed them and the sound of pounding feet and an ax behind them signified that their pursuer was now coming up the stairs.

Laying hands on Dorothy's sagging old back, the green-skinned woman threw her into the vortex first. It didn't matter if she died, as long as Dorothy didn't. A second more in this world and she would.

Taking a deep breath, she scrambled to her feet.

The portal was already collapsing.

She jumped the last few feet, hands reaching out for the center of the vortex.

Her foot caught hold of something.

Or something caught hold of her foot.

But before she could turn to see what it was, all was darkness.

* * *

**(More epic cliffhangers! We are now caught up fully to what I originally wrote. Whatever comes next is as new to me as it will be for you. It might take a while for the muse to descend upon me again and have inspiration to finish, so I can't say when I'll definitely update this. Just keep a weather eye on this story)**


	17. The Ultimatum

**(AN: Meanwhile, in the land of Oz...lol, yes it's another cliff-hanger. Well, I mean, since nobody seems to care about this story or anything, I might as well make it interesting with plenty of cliff-hangers. I won't stop writing because you're ignoring my masterpiece, but I'd sure like some feedback...even if you want to call me a JF and an Elphie-hater.)**

**(To whom it may concern, Kloxolk is not a Gary-Stu. There is a lot about him that I respect and admire, but if anyone is the "author's pet" of this story, it is the bad guy.)**

**(Now enjoy the first big arrival of the enemy!)**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen - The Ultimatum**

The General watched the two figures disappear into the void.

Whether they lived or died made no difference right now.

There was still a major threat in Oz that they had to deal with. Slowly he limped his way back down the stairs of the North Tower.

And collapsed half-way down. He only stopped rolling when he came to a landing half-way down the stairs. His clock-work arm and leg were banged up and there were many bruises on his flesh body.

A tear welled up in his good eye.

Pure thought had overcome him while he made his way down the stairs. He was single-handedly responsible for the whole of Oz. Ozma wasn't going to do anything about this, and it didn't seem likely that some great power, like Lurline, would suddenly appear at the last minute to save them all.

It was on his shoulders now to keep everyone alive and see that they had an Oz to come home to after the inevitable battle between the fortress and the Emerald City took place.

That was not what brought him to his knees, though.

He knew the power of the Enemy. He knew that none could stand against him.

He also knew that was exactly what he was doing. He was leading them all on a death-charge against an invincible foe.

But he had to do it. They had to do something, anything to save the people of Oz.

Even if it meant death.

He had faced death before, it was nothing new. The scars on his body and the loss of his limbs was proof that he and death were old friends by now.

If he died in this battle, he knew that he would see his beloved Eliana again.

Just the thought, the memory of his beloved betrothed was enough to take his breath away.

He reached up with his flesh hand and wiped the tear out of his eye. His clock-work hand then reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out a bit of black stone. Drawing out his sword, he lay it flat, parallel to the ground, on top of his knees.

Carefully, he began to write the story that finished up the tale of the blade.

The end of his life.

He only wished that it would be as he would like it to be.

Saving a life.

* * *

Suddenly, a great explosion shook the ground. Kloxolk was in no place to be when an earthquake hit, and he knew it. However, this was no earthquake. Chancing to glance out the slit of the window in the wall of the tower, he saw something in the west. A large commotion was gathering in the city below.

Forcing himself up to his feet, he walked back up the tower and turned his gaze westward.

A large cloud of black dust floated in the horizon where the crystal castle had been. It seemed to be the cloud that came after a great explosion.

He dared to hope that this was a good sign, that the crystal castle had been destroyed.

His intuition, the better part of him, the one that kept him alive all those years.

That told him something even worse had happened.

He ran down the stairs of the North tower, as fast as his leg and clock-work peg-leg could carry him. Once he entered the empty North Hall, he heard an echo down the end of the West Hall. It was the sound of a great battering ram hammering upon the western gate of the palace.

As he came to the western hall, he saw Ozma and her retinue had gathered there. Kloxolk also saw several people in uniform he hadn't seen before.

"Oh, great. You're here." Ozma said grumpily.

"Who are these?" he asked, pointing to the ones in uniform.

"They're my generals and officers," Ozma said with a self-confident smile. "Aren't they pretty?"

"'Pretty?'" he asked incredulously. "They're supposed to lead!"

"Of course, silly. They lead the Army." She pointed to Private Amby, standing in front of the column of soldiers, shivering for his very life.

"Open the gates." she ordered.

"B-b-b-b-b-but, Your Ozness..." Amby begged, stammering.

"Please open the gates, private."

He made a fearful shriek and then did as he was commanded.

All hope seemed to be drained out of Kloxolk's spirit as he saw who was making the noise.

Standing before them was a tall being. It was at least twelve feet tall, easily. It was clothed in clear crystals that reflected some murky blackness from within. Or maybe the crystals were growing out of its body. All that could be seen were a pair of red eyes that shone from the top of the head.

In either hand, the being had two tin figures: the Tin Soldier in the left-hand and the Tin Woodsman in the right-hand.

Even more hope-shattering for Kloxolk was the garb this revenant-thing wore.

A belt of gold was girt about the waist, with a breastplate of gold upon the chest. A long, flowing cape of spun-gold hung from the shoulders, and a high, golden helmet with ram's horns curving down sat upon the head, obscuring any semblance of a face.

"Hello again, Ozma." Ikol spoke, in a deep, hollow, metallic and menacing voice. "It has been too long."

"Excuse me?" Ozma asked. "I don't believe we've ever met."

"Oh, but we have." the Nameless said. "Though you do not remember, your previous incarnations once thought me an ally. Now I have been released..." The red eyes turned their gaze to the hum-bug Wizard behind her. "Thanks to your former ruler."

The General noticed that the people of Oz, all the citizens of the Emerald City, were either hiding in their homes or groveling and rolling upon the ground in fear.

"I believe I have something of yours." The Nameless unceremoniously dropped the two tin people to the ground before him and gave them a swift kick back to Ozma's side.

"Well, how rude." the dandy Tin Woodsman responded.

"You are being very mean," Ozma said. "I ask you kindly to leave the City right now."

"You cannot simply wish me away, fool. You are impotent, for I have all the power of Oz and more at my command."

"Leave this city right now!" Ozma insisted, pounding her foot on the pavement in frustration.

Ikol laughed a hollow, mirthless, mocking laugh that chilled them all to the bone.

"Army, attack!" she ordered.

"Attack!" cried the generals. The colonels then carried these orders to the majors and the majors to the sergeants, then the sergeants to the corporals, until the corporals then ordered Amby to attack.

"B-b-but, I've never even fired my gun! It's not even l-loaded! Oh, my Oz! What will become of my precious orange whiskers?"

"Ha!" mocked Ikol. "THIS is your army?" With one hand, the twelve-foot tall revenant seized Omby Amby by his beard, lifting him well off the ground. "You must be more foolish than I thought."

The Private crumbled beneath the fearful visage of the Nameless enemy. The legends he had been told of as a child now came true.

"P-please!" he cried, tears rushing down his cheeks and into his beard. "Please don't kill me!"

"Why?" mocked the Nameless. "You're her army, the only one who has to follow orders. Without you..." He laughed in mockery again. "...without you, her army is useless!"

The left hand took hold of the Private while the right wrapped the long, red beard around his neck. Ikol then lifted the fat Omby Amby up with one hand, holding onto the beard, and tied it onto the diagonal line of the 'Z' in the O-within-the-Z Oz symbol that hung over the door.

Once secured, Ikol let the poor bastard drop.

Cries of disgust, shock and fear came as Private Omby Amby gagged and choked, his precious orange whiskers constricting his wind-pipe.

Kloxolk drew his sword to cut the poor man's beard off and save him from choking to death, but the Nameless held out one hand and the General suddenly collapsed, his clock-work gears having stopped working. He suddenly felt cold and icy, as if death was coming to reclaim him too early.

With the indifference one would have in swatting a fly from off their shoulder, Ikol put one hand on the fat Private and gave him a firm pull.

There was a loud snap, and the Nameless laughed, leaving Omby Amby to hang lifelessly above them.

Almost as soon as the sound was heard, a rain of very foul looking dark semi-solid ooze rained from the Private's pants right onto Ozma. She screamed in disgust.

"That was very mean of you!" shot the Scarecrow.

The Nameless scoffed it off with a "hmph" and stepped forward to the besmeared Ozma.

But suddenly came to a halt as a small glass thing crawled between his feet.

"You big dummy!" a sickly-sweet, girlish little voice came from the little thing. It was a Cat made of glass. "You're nowhere as mean as they say I am. And I've got these beautiful ruby brains!" The Cat lowered its head, showing off the shimmering brains through its glass head. "You can see 'em sparkle."

"Sparkle this!" Ikol said, bringing down a heavy booted foot down upon Bungle the Glass Cat. A pathetic cry escaped the cat as it was crushed to death, bits of glass flying everywhere and nothing left of the sparkly ruby brains but red powder.

"I hope this demonstration of my powers," Ikol said, turning to Ozma. "Is enough to prove that I mean business. My servants stole and destroyed everything that keeps you together." He then turned to the people, who cowered before him.

"Or perhaps she failed to mention that." he spoke to them. "She had a Love Magnet held over her door which forced you to love her! What good ruler forces her people to do anything! And a tapestry that shows her what you are doing every hour of the day. Not only does she force you to love her, she doesn't even trust you."

"You're a liar!" Ozma whined, her voice breaking into tears.

"Am I?" Ikol now towered over her, making her feel very small and insignificant. "Even now, you beg for the destruction of all of Oz and its inhabitants by your inaction!"

"No!" she protested, shaking her head as if that were enough to make him go away. To make it all not real, just some terrible nightmare.

"You're lying!" she said again.

"Why do you weep, then, if I do?" the Nameless inquired. She dared not speak: she knew that she would do anything or give anything to save the cute little people of Oz, yet she also knew that she was lying. She couldn't give up her crown jewels, she wouldn't fight for them. She wouldn't even budge as he killed off her people.

He then turned to the cowering people.

"In the end, you were nothing to her: an illusion, a travesty." A large hand pointed into the sky. "Behold, the power of Ikol!"

Looking up, they saw the clouds that were erupting from the west rain down large blocks of black crystal throughout Oz. They fell as a great cloud that rained black crystals upon the earth as far north as Mount Runcible, as far east as Tenniken and Neverdale and as far south as Qhoyre and Ovvels. The whole of the Vinkus was covered in black crystals of various sizes.

All those magic-draining, life-leeching crystals were now in pieces all over Oz.

"Your time is at an end, Ozma." he threatened, the hand turning to Oz's girl-ruler, as the black crystal clouds were throwing their deadly payload across the land behind him. "I will return when the Rainbow cries in the darkness. Give me the rest of the Wonders by then, or I will tear this city down and kill you all to find them." In a flash of black and gold, the Nameless Traitor disappeared.

More rumblings shook the earth as the rain began to fall.

They made their way into the Emerald City to keep from being hit.

* * *

**(Yes, I killed off the Soldier with the Orange Whiskers - aka. Private Omby Amby - and Bungle the Glass Cat. I know its kind of "taboo" to kill off established canon characters, but they serve no purpose at all, so they had to go! -evil laughter- But remember, this is a _war_ and many more will die before the end.)**


	18. Lost in Quadling Country

**(As we saw with last chapter, we're not running on linear time anymore. With chapter sixteen, we went back to see Kloxolk and what happened when Ikol showed up while Dorothy and Elphaba were absent. This chapter was originally going to be told in a flash-back, but I decided that some of my OCs need a little more character depth. Therefore, this chapter is devoted to Captain Dan'ai, or Aidan for all you non Quadlings.)**

**(Credit for the name for the Ozian poppies, as well as the Quadling name for the Unnamed God goes to LeiaEmberblaze)**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen - Lost in Quadling Country**

Dan'ai had a task to do.

One which she dreaded doing as she packed up her horse and rode off from the Emerald City.

She had seen war and bloodshed first-hand. Fede, Bengda, those were just a few of the acts done by the Gale Force and others during the reign of the Wizard and Emperor Shell.

Death was something that she had become quite familiar with.

A shiver ran up her spine and through her whole body as the hideous memories came rushing into her mind.

No, she told herself. This would be different. She would see to it that Oz never saw that world again.

Even if it meant her life.

With a sigh, she rode off down the Yellow Brick Road, atop her faithful steed.

The Yellow Brick Road, the symbol of the Wizard's rule and influence throughout Oz. Those wiser folk who lived during his reign knew that it was made for quick mobilization of his Gale Force, the secret police that also worked as his private army. The golden path snaked its way across the land of Oz, as far north as Shiz, as far south as Qhoyre and as far east as Center Munch. In the early days of its construction, Munchkin rebels and other dissidents, many of them Animals, tore up the road in places and burned bridges, especially the Restwater Bridge.

The great lake of Restwater, sitting just south of the Emerald City, fed three of the four lands of Oz with its rivers: the Vinkus River, the Munchkin River and the Gilikin River. The Yellow Brick Road ran along its eastern border, with a few houses and farms dotting the eastern plain and a large field of nosiop roundblooms between them and the Pine Barrens. Originally, a small river cut off from the Restwater lake and cut its way northeast towards the Madeleines. The engineers who built the Yellow Brick Road made the Restwater Bridge over it, for that river was right on the eastern end of the Restwater lake, right over by the mouth of the Munchkin River.

The bridge had been destroyed in Dorothy's first visit to Oz, and proved to be quite a challenge for her and her companions. In the interim before Ozma's return to power, the Bridge had been made obsolete with the damming-up of the small river: this was done, many believed, to raise the water level in the Gilikin and Munchkin rivers, especially the Munchkin River, which fed the Corn Basket of Oz. With the damming of the small river came the end of the need for the Restwater Bridge. The Yellow Brick Road was repaired and aside from the occasional fumes of the roundbloom field, the way from the Emerald City to Munchkinland was safe.

Dan'ai rode from the Emerald City, through the roundbloom field before either she or her horse could inhale the sleep-inducing fragrance and came to the Restwater Dam: what remained of the Restwater Bridge.

* * *

Here she pulled her horse to a stop.

It was getting darker, she noticed, than it usually did at this time of the day. A quick glance at the west sent chills of fear throughout her body. A great reek of black clouds were ushering from that black speck, where the crystal castle was located, flowing up to blot out the sun.

In less than three minutes, the sun was blotted out and a grim, gray shroud of unlight blanketed the land.

Aidan delivered a swift kick to the flanks of her horse with both of her heels.

"Hyah!" she shouted. "We're running out of time!"

The horse took off down the Yellow Brick Road, into the Pine Barrens, now gloomy and fearfully dark in the dreary, sun-less unlight.

Here, at the eaves of the Pine Barrens, she came to a stop. There was another road that branched off to the right, to the south. That was the road she needed to take in order to arrive back in Quadling. She turned to the right with caution, keeping sure to avoid veering too close to the sides of the road.

The trees in this part of the Pine Barrens were known to be rather aggressive to outsiders. And there were other dangers farther south, some of which continued to haunt the road to the still semi-wild Quadling lands. The mountains surrounding the marshlands of Quadling, the Quadling Kells, were known for the wild Hammer-heads, armless creatures whose necks could extend to strike heavy blows on wanderers into their mountains.

But that was good news, Dan'ai reassured herself. For just beyond the Kells lay the flat, marshy land of the Quadlings, her home. Of the many scattered and floating villages throughout the swampy marshland, Ovvels and Glinda's Palace stood out. Ovvels was the largest town this deep into the swamp, and the palace, several miles west of Ovvels, aligned to a vertical axis with the Emerald City, was the symbol of Glinda's protection over the people of Quadling.

Though she served the Gilikinese sorceress with utter loyalty, it still amazed Dan'ai that she was a Gilikinese sorceress, ruling over the "frog-people" of Quadling, as the more snobbish Gilikinese would refer to the people of the South.

Perhaps there was more to Glinda than she originally believed there to be.

She had come a long way in only a few hours time, but it would take all of three days to reach Glinda's palace. It was no small thing to ride from the Emerald City to Qhoyre, where the Yellow Brick Road terminated. After riding down the southward-going path a ways, she came to another bridge, one that was in good repair. This was the bridge over the Munchkin River.

Dan'ai dismounted off her horse, carefully walked over to the side of the road and picked up a small stone. This she tossed down into the river, and heard a light plunk as the stone sank into the bottom. When nothing else was heard, she lead her horse down a slope to the river's edge and led him under the bridge. Here she sat down and tried to sleep, trying not to think of what might accost her in the middle of the night: Hammer-heads, Kalidahs or trolls.

The darkness of the forest because the even darker darkness of a moon-less, starless night, all thanks to the reek of black cloud that blotted out the sun. Dan'ai fell asleep, all the while singing softly a prayer to Heway, the name the Quadlings gave to what the Munchkins and Gilikinese called the Unnamed God, until sleep and exhaustion overtook her and she could sing no more.

* * *

Night faded into the gray of a dawn-less, mirthless morning.

Dan'ai awoke, washed her face in the waters of the river, mounted up and then continued her journey down the Yellow Brick Road to Quadling. She rode as fast as she could, for delays such as resting for the night couldn't be allowed, especially when all of Oz was dying in all directions from the west outward.

About mid-day, Dan'ai was now at the border of Quadling Country. Here the land was changing drastically, in sharp contrast to the forest she had ridden through. Behind lurked the Pine Barrens, dark and foreboding as ever in the light-less noon. Rolling hills of tall blue-grass loomed to her left, and sparse, steppe-like turf branched off to the right, where a distant line of smoke hung in the sky.

Dan'ai feared what this could mean, for over that way was the Porcelain City, an independent kingdom of fragile people made of "china". They were considered to be nothing more than just a fairy-tale in most parts of civilized Oz, so no army had been sent to conquer them. Not that the Porcelain people put their noses in Ozian politics often. They were extremely brittle, and broke very easily: this did not make them good warriors or excellent workers. They were left alone at best, or enslaved and brought back to the Emerald City as commodities, knick-knacks for the rich Gilikinese nobility.

It saddened her if anything bad happened to those people, so isolated and sheltered from the woes of the world. But she had a mission, and people were dying elsewhere in Oz, or coming to poverty and ruin, regardless of whether the Porcelain City stood or was in ruins now.

Just then, as she paused, she heard a noise.

Immediately, she jumped off her horse and drew out her curved sword.

The noise came again, like sniffling.

Warily, she walked over to a fallen log that was on the right-hand of the road, and lept around it to face what was making the noise. What she found was a small child, barely four years old, dressed like a sailor, curled up in a ball behind the log. He had his thump placed firmly in his mouth, and he was crying.

"Hey, there," Dan'ai said tenderly, putting her sword aside. "What's wrong, little guy?"

"I'm lost." the boy answered.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Don't know."

"Where are your parents?"

"Don't know."

Dan'ai sighed. This was a great inconvenience to say the least: a lost child who had no idea where he was or how to get back. A pang of guilt stung her heart as she thought this. She had been such a child, lost, alone and afraid after her home-village had been burned to the ground by Emperor Shell's 'Seventh Spear'.

The little ones always suffer the most in war, she reminded herself.

She picked up the little boy and sat him upon the log. She wiped his eyes clean with her own hands.

"Do you have a name?" She asked. He nodded. "What's your name?"

"Button."

"Okay, Button. Would you like to come with me? I'll take you some-place safe, and there we can help you find your parents, okay?"

He nodded in agreement, cheering up a little.

She led little Button over to her horse, and had to try hard to keep herself from laughing when he exploded in joy at seeing a horse.

"Do we get to ride the horsie?" he asked. "Please, lemmie ride the horsie!"

"Just a second, Button." she said, trying hard not to laugh. She then picked him up and put him on the horse's back. Deftly she lept onto the saddle behind him and kicked her horse to a light, hearty trot.

After all, she didn't want to make the boy's ride too bumpy.

The ride with Button was very quiet. The little boy seemed to know very little, and replied to almost all of her questions with "Don't know." It was frustrating, to say the least. But Dan'ai remembered that little children were like that, and it would do no good to get angry at him for just being himself.

Something in Dan'ai awoke, though, while spending this time with Button. She was reminded of a little Quadling girl, who enjoyed nothing more than mud-fights with her friends, chasing after the frogs and other playful creatures of the swamp, or dancing around bonfires on summer nights, chanting praises to Heway.

That little girl was her.

Dan'ai smiled, thankful to be remembering a time of peace and innocence in her life: a time she had almost forgotten even existed.

* * *

By nightfall, or at least when the dark day became a little darker, they came to the small town of Qhoyre, just a few miles north of the end of the Yellow Brick Road. Here they stopped for the night, but here also Dan'ai had to let Button go. She felt a pang of guilt inside, for leaving this poor, lost boy in a city of strangers. But she was riding to war, and war was not something to bring children into the midst.

It was for his own safety that he would be left here.

That night, they slept in one of the floating huts on the outskirts of Qhoyre. The horse was off by itself, nibbling on the tall grasses by the water's edge. Dan'ai usually slept by herself, but Button was scared of the dark and so she let him snuggle up next to her, wrapping him in a light blanket made of dried papyrus reeds and cattail down.

Not exactly the woolen blankets of Gilikin or Munchkinland, but the swamp was never cold enough for heavy clothing and a simple reed blanket was just right.

She sighed, trying hard to make herself go to sleep. It was much easier trying to sleep being alone, than with an oblivious little child to look after. But it was worth it, she knew. In this little boy's eyes, that seemed to shine so brightly, she saw the culmination of her hard work. As a soldier, she knew it was her place to keep the peace and protect the lives of the innocent.

Seeing an innocent little life like this, so full of optimism and beauty, reminded her just what she was fighting for: fighting to protect.

The thought warmed her heart, but also pained her as well. For she was about to leave this little tyke all alone once again, without protection.

She thought maybe she could take him with her...

No, that would be even worse. To expose a child at such a young age to the horrors of war was what had happened to her, and she vowed never to let that happen again.

Torn she was between two choices, both of them fueled by a desire to protect the innocent: this innocent. The safest place for Button to be, she knew, was at her side. As long as she lived, the boy would not come to harm, she swore to herself. But she was also going into the thick of battle, most likely. Once Glinda's guards were arrayed, they would have to move north to the Emerald City. And then...well, she did not know what then would happen. But it would most likely be some horrible conflict, one which she did not want poor Button to be exposed to.

In such a torn state of mind, she at last fell asleep.

The gray, dawn-less morning rose upon the city of Qhoyre. Dan'ai, who had grown accustom to early rising, woke up just about the time when the sun was supposed to be rising. As she rubbed drowsiness and dried tears out of her eyes, she noticed that there was an odd glow upon the floor. It was emanating from behind them. Quadling huts burned easily, and so the marsh-dwellers cultivated fire-flies and kept them in glass-orbs, which served as lanterns during the night.

But the glow was too strong and bright to be from a lantern. Not that having a lantern lit would be a bad idea in the sun-less dark that gripped the land of Oz, she thought. But that light was so strong.

Turning her head around to look behind her, she had to stuff her hand in her mouth to keep from crying aloud in joy. But the tears came just the same.

From somewhere through the branches of mangrove trees and just above the edge of the hills, a bright glowing golden disk could be seen peering defiantly through the dark clouds.

The sun.

Almost as soon as she saw it, the glow faded away and the gray, mirthless unlight settled upon Qhoyre once more.

She recomposed herself, trying hard to believe that what she saw was real and not just a mirage or some trick of the mind. There could be no doubt, nothing else could make such a blinding radiance as the sun.

It gave her hope that, even in the depth of this darkness, nature was still fighting for survival.

Dan'ai carefully extricated herself from the bed, careful to not disturb Button, who was still sleeping soundly. She turned her eyes from the little child, knowing the gravity of what she was about to do.

Quietly, she walked across the edge of the hut and found the middle-aged Quadling woman who owned it.

"Excuse me," she inquired, in her native Qua'tai. "I'm going further south. The boy in the hut, tell him that I've gone on, and help him find his parents."

The woman nodded her head and wished Heway give her a safe and productive journey.

Dan'ai, as she was getting the horse together, prayed that Button would be safe.

And that she was doing the right thing.

* * *

**(There actually was a city made of china in _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_, but I called it the Porcelain City to avoid offending. What do you think of Dan'ai so far? Don't worry, you'll find out what happens here soon enough.)**


	19. The Dog that Got Away

**("Lost in Quadling Part 2" isn't coming up yet! -evil laughter- I have this scene to add as well. I know it may sound a little silly, but in the Oz series, Toto could talk but just chose not to. Furthermore, in "Kiamo Ko Again", he mysteriously disappears right after they see Kiamo Ko, and is not mentioned as being brought back to the Emerald City by Kirriku. A forgetful error on my part, but then I recalled that, in my rough draft, I had a scene similar to this but in two parts. Here it is, in one whole part, with an introduction of a previously mentioned OC. Enjoy)**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen - The Dog that Got Away**

Complain, complain, complain.

That was all that Dorothy did. Every mile closer to the Emperor's Castle she was complaining about something. Whether it was because they didn't ask the Wizard for an Ozoplane, or because of that quiet, sweet-voiced young woman whom Dorothy kept agitating and complaining about.

_By Oz_, Toto thought, _would she never shut up._

Yes, Dorothy's little black dog was in fact a Dog. From the moment she opened the door of her farm-house and stepped onto the soil of Oz, over a hundred years ago, wee Toto realized that something was different. The first thing was that he could even think, to consider that there was something different.

For the whole of that first journey through Oz, all he did was think and take in what he saw around him with eyes that could send signals to his sentient brain to tell him what it was he saw. It was overwhelming to just spend days upon end, thinking about everything and just listening.

He saw the whole of Oz from Dorothy's arms, and listened intently to everything that was going on. Because of his sharper, canine hearing, he could hear clearly things that most humans would be content to merely ignore or be incapable of even comprehending.

He was almost bursting with this new information, just waiting to tell the world of all the knowledge he had discovered. But something kept him back a bit. Perhaps it was that Dog-ish wisdom, that even dogs possess, that made him wary of revealing this secret all too soon. So he decided to keep his mouth shut and just listen in on all that happened in Oz.

Because of this, Toto heard much that his owner and those annoying characters were rather incapable of hearing. He could hear the Cowardly Lion's heart beat savagely in fear as he charged upon them, and knew exactly what would unnerve the big coward. That very first time before the Wizard, he could hear a strange sound of turning levers and cranking gears coming from behind an emerald curtain, very faint and distant compared to the explosive roar of the Great Head. While in Kiamo Ko, locked away in a cellar with the Lion, he could hear the whole argument that went on between Dorothy and the Witch before the latter died, not just the version she told everyone else.

For over a hundred years, he remained Dorothy's faithful dog companion, putting up with all her complaining and listening to all her problems. But he also knew that there was much more to Oz than what Dorothy's little brain could comprehend. There was something else, a great power, just beyond the senses, that Toto, being a dog and capable of sensing things just beyond the comprehension of humans, could detect.

Toto listened all the while during the journey to Kiamo Ko. He heard all of Dorothy's complaining about the hardness of the way, and how much she hated her companion. But he was starting to get a head-ache, for they were going too far west, too close to that fortress. Was Dorothy blind? Did she not know what that would do? He had been listening all the while, and knew exactly what would happen if they got too close.

They crossed the river after Rain's show of magic and climbed up the Great Kells to the castle of Kiamo Ko. It was a place that, even after a hundred years, held many memories. Toto did not forget the time they spent up there, as prisoners to the Witch. But exactly what kind of Witch, he thought, needed the Cowardly Lion to pull her chariot if she could fly through the sky? Furthermore, he had heard whispers from the Field Mice of a green-skinned creature who was a friend to the Animals, and saved them from enslavement in the Emerald City.

Though it clashed with all the rumors they had also heard of the Wizard being wonderful and everything, it made little sense that this woman, obviously the green-skinned creature, was an enemy of Animal-slavery and yet wanted to enslave the Lion.

When they came upon that hall, where Rain tripped over the bucket, Toto suddenly stopped.

He knew better than to keep on going.

Someone had told him so before.

That very moment, while the green girl curiously looked at the hat she had forgotten, the Dog began to think. From what he had deduced from Dorothy's rantings, Glinda had ordered that moody yet admirably spartan Evian General to bring that object back from wherever they went to find it. He knew it the moment it stumbled out of her robes: for one, he saw it on the head of the Witch.

The other reason was that the hat had been speaking to him.

There was something not right about that hat, he knew for certain, the moment they began their quest and he heard a voice coming from Rain. It was not her normal, lovely, melodic voice, but a sharp, angry and bitter voice that he hadn't heard in a hundred years. It wasn't a real voice, as humans understood speaking and talking. But there were palpitations on a different plane of communication, one inaudible to human hearing but just perceptible by dog hearing. Those his brain interpreted as a kind of language, though a more straight-forward, honest kind of communication than the complicated thoughts-from-brain-to-mouth-to-words process that humans suffered through.

From the different pitches of the tremor, he could tell that the voice was feminine, though it was sharp, cold and angry as well. Since Dorothy couldn't hear the voice, and since Rain was obviously oblivious to its screams, Toto mused that it must be something very magical, since they couldn't sense it.

A scandalous, dangerous thought formed in Toto's mind through the three-day journey to Kiamo Ko as he mused on the voice from the hat (though he did not know it was a hat until it fell out of Rain's robes in the hallway). The thought was that whatever was speaking was an item of great power, one that belonged to the Witch, the Wicked Witch of the West.

He came to the conclusion because he knew that, as a Dog, he could sense things that nobody else could, like the currents of magic. That great power, almost beyond the senses, were the hints of the magical presence that permeated all of Oz. There were strong ripples of magical essence coming from that hat, so obviously it must be magical.

From how the "voice" of the hat spoke, he knew that it belonged to the Wicked Witch of the West.

But that drove him to a dangerous conclusion.

Why would Glinda the Good ask them to retrieve an item that belonged to the Witch? Obviously she knew, for she was a powerful enough sorceress that she could sense the magical flows much better than he could.

Then it fell out of Rain's robes, that tall-peaked black hat. And all the pieces fell into place.

It was the Witch's hat that was speaking to him. He was sure that Glinda had sent them to find the Witch's hat, and now fate, or some other power, had driven them to Kiamo Ko, where the murder took place.

No, Toto reminded himself. It wasn't fate.

That girl, Rain, the ebb and flow of magical essences were powerful around her. She knew of the hat's presence, and, he realized once the hat tumbled out of her robe, it had been leading her to this spot all along.

Leading her back to the place of the murder...

So the Witch could come back to life.

In hindsight, running was probably not the bravest choice Toto made.

* * *

Mostly it was motivated out of pure revulsion for Dorothy._ Let the Witch have her_, he thought. It would serve her right after treating Rain like a slave.

But as soon as Toto ran across Kiamo Ko's drawbridge, he knew that his disappearance would be marked.

Toto sighed as he stood upon the rocks of the Kells, with Kiamo Ko leering dangerously behind him and the crystal castle even farther than that. The air was clearer out here, definitely, but his thoughts were a mess the closer he got to the crystal castle. He couldn't concentrate.

Suddenly, there was a great, deafening explosion of power.

"_Ikol..._"

As the name spoke out at last, Toto could feel the very earth shaking in torment.

It was then that he discovered that the earth was indeed shaking.

The rocks of the mountain were shaping, contorting into shapes something like humans. Toto had seen these before, and knew exactly what they were, and how to stop them.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any eggs with him.

The whole hill-side was breaking apart as Nome-tunnels were appearing where the creatures were bursting out of the ground, taking human form. Toto ran for it again, trying to avoid being hit or grabbed.

Just then, to his great dismay, he was snatched up in a Nome's stony arms.

All suddenly turned to blackness as he was carried under the earth.

After an immeasurable amount of time, Toto finally realized that he was not alone. There was some noise and suddenly Toto found himself thrust to the ground. The sound clashing rocks could be heard just overhead, but the darkness of the caves were so deep that he could not see what was going on.

All was silent.

Then a voice, deep and gravelly, like the very mountains themselves, spoke to him.

"Are you alright?"

"Who are you?" the Dog asked.

"I'm a friend," the voice said. Slowly a light filled the room, a green light from a veridium gem-stone that was tied onto a head.

A Nome's head.

Toto barked at the Nome.

"Don't be afraid," the Nome, who owned the deep voice. "I won't hurt you."

Then Toto remembered something the old General had said, something about Nomes that made Dorothy distrust him even more than she already did.

"Are you Muugh?"

"Yes," the Nome said. "You know my name."

"I met your friend,"

"Evemar?" the Nome asked fondly. A scowl then came over his rocky features. "You better come with me."

The Nome then dove into the rocks and started burrowing his way into a new cavern. With a yap, Toto lept in after him.

A few short hours later, and they were now in a small cave that was buzzing with activity. Toto was amazed how fast one could go in a straight line without having to climb up or around mountains and other obstacles.

"Here we are," Muugh said. "Friends, look alive, now! We have company."

A small group of Nomes walked out of the darkness to meet their leader. They were about five feet tall, evenly, with huge, powerful bodies made of stone. Toto saw that they were unclad, except for one who had a orange rug thrown over his shoulder.

"Is that what I think it is?" one of the Nomes whispered.

"Yes," Muugh said. "It is one of the surface dwellers."

"Why should they be here?" a third Nome hissed. "We're already risking our lives as it is by going to Oz to help your friend. If we should lose, I dare not even think what the Nome King would do to us!"

"He was escaping the others," Muugh added. He then placed Toto on the ground and addressed the Nomes. "The Name has been spoken, we have no time to waste!"

As one, the Nomes rushed towards the cave-wall and dove into it, digging as they went. Toto jumped in, following close to the only Nome who was not digging: Muugh, now wearing the orange rug.

"We'll be in the Emerald City shortly," Muugh said.

"Wait, maybe I missed something," Toto said. "But aren't the Nomes enemies of the Emerald City?"

"The Nomes are the Guardians of the Underworld," he said. "Our charge is to the caves and the precious things of the earth. Any foreign lord who usurps our gems or our stone without permission is an enemy. But for now, we're on your side."

"Why?" Toto asked.

"Loyalty," Muugh said. "Evemar Kloxolk is my friend, it is only right that I help him. Besides..." He called for a brief pause and then turned to Toto, removing the orange rug off his back. The Dog saw that it was a Fox, looking heavily wounded.

"We need to return Ruddrix to the City," he said, then ordering the Nomes to continue digging. "He was caught by the Nomes, they tortured him. We barely saved his life."

"Wait, what do you mean 'by the Nomes?'"

"Not all Nomes are on our side, friend." Muugh said, running up to keep with the fast pace of the others, with Toto bouncing along at his side. "King Ruquat is loyal to the Nameless Traitor."

"How does he figure into all of this?"

"You forget, Dog, that the Nomes can hear everything that goes on in Oz. We are the earth: you trample on us daily and we hear everything that goes on upstairs, with no care or thought to us. We could feel the pain the earth is going through as those crystals grow out into the sky. Unnatural things, they leech life rather than give life.

"But Ruquat is desirous of revenge against Ozma for his loss at her hands. Emissaries from the Nameless came to the King and told him that he would be allowed revenge if he sided with him. The fool, ha! He does not know that the Nameless will not let Oz alone once he's killed off everything and everyone."

"I know, he'll warp it to his own design." the Dog added.

"Good, you've been listening."

"Well, I might not be a Nome, but my hearing is sharper than that of my companions. Plus..." He doubled his pace to keep up with the Nomes: for stone-creatures, they were fast runners under the earth.

"...you listen better when you talk less."

* * *

**(I think I'll go back to Quadling shortly and explain the rest of Dan'ai's story. Don't worry, I won't stay too long here because the main action is arriving shortly)**


	20. Found in Quadling Country

**(Here is "Lost in Quadling Country" part 2, called "Found in Quadling Country". You'll see why. As of this chapter, "The Great War of Oz" now takes the place for my longest fan-fiction to date. Here's a little bit of tragedy to speed things along with our non-linear plot progression. Don't worry, back to a linear story-line before long)**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen - Found in Quadling Country**

The third day wasted away as Dan'ai made her way through the swamp-land. There were several roads, none of them all together trustworthy, but they all leaded to the same remote place in the middle of the swamp-land of Quadling Country.

Glinda's palace.

It was like home to her, as much as the swamps had been her home as well.

The rest of the way back to the palace was uneventful, though she did hear that the frogs and other creatures of the swamp were strangely quiet. This was most unusual, even in the heat of the day. There was always something making some kind of noise, but now there was nothing.

Into the floating towns she came and crossed the rope-bridge that led to Glinda's palace. It was empty, as before, for the Sorceress from Gilikin had yet to return. Dan'ai dismounted, leaving her horse unattended as she ran into the palace, looking for the captains of the companies. The Captain of the Yellow Division, a Scrow with yellow-tattoos all over her dark skin, was on the western wing. The Captain of the Purple Division, the Gilikinese commander, was on the north side, and the Captain of the Blue Division, a Munchkinlander girl - one of the taller sort - had her own little room on the eastern wing of the palace.

Dan'ai bit down on her lip as she knocked at the door of Captain Callico, a Gilikinese girl named after one of the Adepts of legend, who commanded the Purple Division. The upper-class woman wasn't accustom to life in the swamp, and made quite a fuss getting up and out of bed, especially early in the morning.

"Wake up, Cal." she whispered.

The dark-haired Gilikinese captain turned over in her bed, showing no sign of waking.

"It's urgent, wake up!" she said, getting a little impatient.

Still, nothing.

Growing frustrated, she rolled Callico out of bed. Once she hit the floor, a disgruntled groan escaped the raven-haired captain.

"Get the Purple Division ready now! We're moving out to the Emerald City."

Before any protest could escape Callico's lips, Dan'ai took off towards the west wing.

Lak'hara grew up on the plains of the Vinkus, and therefore wasn't accustom to doors. This meant that she often left her door unlocked. This helped Dan'ai as she thrust the doors open. Fortunately, the Scrow captain was a very light sleeper and she jumped awake as her door opened.

"Yellow Division up now! We're off to the Emerald City!"

With a sharp nod, the Vinkan girl was getting ready for her assignment. Dan'ai meanwhile, had to hike across the breadth of the palace to reach the Blue Room, owned by Snipp, the Captain of the Blue Division. Suddenly, half-way down the hall, there was a moment of silence as a deep boom echoed across the land like the breaking of the sound barrier.

"_Ikol..._"

Suddenly, the palace started to tremble, as if the very foundations were being shattered by some great force.

As if for her life, Dan'ai ran the rest of the way to Snipp's room. All around her, the palace was starting fall apart. The floor buckled, glass ornaments hung about the walls fell down and broke loudly upon the floor.

From outside, the panicking cries of the Quadlings rose up in a dissonant symphony of abject terror as their floating cities were trembling.

It froze Dan'ai's heart as these cries filled her ears.

But it filled her with resolve.

She ran into the Blue Hall, and found it in readiness, with Captain Snipp awake and ready. Dan'ai would have been supremely surprised if she were still asleep through all this ruckuss.

"We have to get out of the palace now!" She shouted to the Munchkinlander, who nodded fiercely and rallied her company to follow.

Suddenly, the whole palace lurched backward suddenly, sending many falling to the floor or scrambling for some kind of hand-hold. A loud splash was heard, and they feared the worse. Water was suddenly flowing into the palace around their feet.

* * *

Dan'ai was coughing up swamp water as she crawled onto a stable island of grass and mud. Around her, she could see the other members of the Red Division crawling out of the marsh and onto land. After spitting out a rather large wad of marsh algae, Dan'ai looked back behind her.

Glinda's Palace, which had served as Dan'ai's home and the pinnacle of Glinda's power in the Quadling Country, was sinking into the swamp. The ruby foundations had shattered, broken by clear crystals of immense size. Even now they were growing in a ridiculously fast rate, sprouting out spires, walls and towers of immense size.

Just looking at them too long made Dan'ai's head swirl, as if just looking at it gave her a head-ache.

Farther out were the survivors of the town that floated around the palace. It fell into the swamp as well, and Dan'ai saved as many as she could.

But it was not enough. Of the twelve hundred women who made up the four Divisions of Glinda's personal guards, eight hundred remained: the Purple Division suffering the most loses and the Blue Division coming up second-most. The Yellow Division suffered little, but only the Red Division had not lost anyone. And of the seven thousand people living in the floating villages around the palace, only three hundred survived.

As Dan'ai was clambering up to her feet, trying hard not to look back, another cry forced her eyes behind her. The Quadling survivors were fleeing from something that was attacking them while they were incumbered in the marshes. It was in the sky.

Looking up, she saw two black specks flying through the sky above them, hurling green fire-balls down upon the fleeing Quadlings. Her hand sank into the soft mud and her fingers enclosed around a stone. Her hand tensing, she pulled the stone out of the mud and threw it up at one of the black figures.

The stone struck, and a man's voice cursed. The figure then flew down and came to land just before Dan'ai. The thing was clad in black, with a thick black cloak about his shoulders. An old broom-stick was in his hand and his long brown hair was tied back and wind-swept. A bruise was upon his forehead.

"Think you're tough, you mud-loving frog-b*tch!" Liir spat at her, stepping brutally on her foot. A cry of pain escaped Dan'ai's lips as his foot was smashing her hand into the mud.

"The Master saw fit to have your Glinda's precious palace destroyed," he said mockingly. "If I were you, I'd give up now. Because that's much better than what he's going to do to you once he gets here." He laughed in a very effeminate yet mocking way. "Much better, indeed."

The man then hoped atop his broom and took off into the sky, after the other black speck. They stopped firing fire-balls at the Quadlings and instead targeted the forests around them. Soon all was a great flame of fire.

It was all Dan'ai could do to keep order among the ranks.

And among the survivors.

* * *

After a long and frightful escape from the burning forest, Dan'ai led them across the swamp-land to Ovvels, which had survived attack so far. She asked for recruits for the army, to avenge the death of the many who died with the fall of Glinda's palace. Some of the younger ones joined the battle, but their number was eighty. Quadlings were very spiritual, earth-bound people who did not fight.

Here at Ovvels, the four captains made their plans.

"We need to reach the Emerald City as soon as possible." Dan'ai said, unfurling a map before them. "We're here..." She pointed to Ovvels. "The Blue and Purple Divisions have suffered much, so they're greatly diminished. Callico, Snipp, you'll come with me as we move north into Qhoyre..." She pointed to the city a few miles north-east of Ovvels. "Once we have enough, we should be able to make it to the City with more forces.

"Lak'hi" she said to Lak'hara. "No one's been sent to the Vinkus to rally the tribes together for war. We'll need you to come up here by the border..." She pointed to the border, a political line between the Quadling and Lesser Kells. "...then make your way north-west. Scrow, Arjiki, Yunamata, it doesn't matter. As long as they're on our side."

"But I'm Scrow," Lak'hara said. "The others won't trust me."

"We have no time for petty tribal differences," Dan'ai said with enthusiasm. "That castle here..." She pointed to an expanse between the Thursk Desert and the Thousand Year Grassland. "...is killing or leeching everything out of Oz."

"Like the one that destroyed the palace?" Snipp asked.

Dan'ai nodded. "Yes, the same. We have to act now or all else will be lost."

"But how can we destroy anything made of those crystals if they're killing us while we're near them?" asked Callico.

"General Kloxolk, he's leading the defense of the Emerald City," Dan'ai said to her unfamiliar captains. "Believes that force will be enough to break them. That's why we need more men...and women, and any creature loyal to our cause."

"The sooner we leave, the better." Lak'hara said. She got up, gathered what supplies she could and turned to leave. "Oz-speed, Aidan."

"Oz-speed, Lak'hi." the Quadling returned.

With nothing more to be said, the meeting was dismissed. Each of them returned to see to what was left of their companies.

Though Dan'ai had a look of consternation on her face. She wished that she was lying, that her mind was betraying her. That for some reason beyond her understanding, perhaps because of those crystals, or perhaps that her mind was at last unhinging, she wished...

That she had not seen those two black specks flying off towards Qhoyre.

* * *

Dan'ai allowed the refugees from the palace to stay in Ovvels while she led the army northeast. They made their way through the swamps, knowing that time was against them in every respect. They had to return to the Emerald City, and because the Name had been spoken, their march required expedition.

But Dan'ai had to see Qhoyre, to see if it was alright.

The gray unlight of day faded away to the pitch blackness of night. The howling of Hammerheads filled the night, and Purple Division was kept up all hours of the night by their moans. The Blue Division was unnerved, but they knew that they were safe as long as they kept fire with them. The Red Division was not worried, just concerned.

The Hammerheads never came this far from the mountains.

The bleak, gray of the sun-less morning found the warriors on their way to Qhoyre with sadness and disgust.

Every mile north, the carnage grew. Whole sections of swamps were blackened and burned, and smoke rose from the marshes, heated by the burning of the trees. Dead Quadlings littered the ground like flies, along with many of the creatures that inhabited this land before. Some of them were the wild creatures native to Oz, while many of the other, useless creatures that inhabited Oz during Ozma's time - such as the Utensians among many others - were now dead, extinct and littered upon the ground along with the others.

Dan'ai got off her horse as she saw three baby Foxes rummaging through the wreckage. By the rings around their tails, she could tell who they belonged to.

"Hey," she called out to the Foxes. "I know your father. Please come with me, if you want to see him."

"We're not supposed to talk to strangers." one of the baby Foxes said with a whimper, and then they departed.

"But I know your father! I've seen him. You've got to leave this place!"

But the Foxes were already gone. In a fit of sadness, Dan'ai hung her head.

Then she saw something dirty and stained beneath her feet, something that made her heart drop.

A white sailor's cap.

Like a mad woman, she ran about the piles of rubbish and remains, calling out "Button!" as loud as her voice could carry. She no longer cared for the danger, for her heart was racing beneath her rib-cage. That boy meant the purpose for fighting, for soldiering on: to keep the world safe for the innocent like him. His appearance had made Dan'ai realize just why she did what she did, and gave her resolve to continue.

"I see some movement!" one of the surviving Blue Division guards, a Munchkin woman named Fern Formica, called out.

She was pointing to a rather large pile of refuse and bodies thrown to the right-hand of the path they were going through.

Dan'ai ran towards the pile, drawing her sword out as she did, and readied for action.

And suddenly she dropped both her sword and the hat in her hand when she came near to the pile.

Laying at the bottom, nestled against a Quadling whose reddish skin was burned to a flaking, rusty color of burned flesh, was a small boy wearing a white shirt and trousers with a blue scarf.

_He could be sleeping_, Dan'ai thought to herself. She ran over to the little child and laid a hand on his shoulder to try and shake him awake.

Her fingers brushed his chubby, chilled cheeks. Her heart stopped beating, and Dan'ai could feel a lump rising in her throat.

Then came the tears. Slowly at first, with no words. All the words were being choked out of her throat, or held back by that lump.

But it was just too much to take.

This little, innocent child was dead.

Killed because he was just in their way.

But in whose way?

A grunting noise came from behind, but Dan'ai did not pay it any heed. Her world had crashed down around her with the death of that little boy. The other soldiers were at the defensive as a large Hammerhead came tottering over into their path. With a stupid look on its huge face, it leaned down with its long neck, grabbed Button's sailor hat by its teeth, threw it up into the air and then shot its neck out so that the hat landed on its head. It then swaggered about, very proud of itself and its new toy.

"Aidan, that Hammerhead has the hat!" Snipp shouted.

As if this were enough to break her out of her rage, Dan'ai turned around to the tottering, foolish Hammerhead. As it shot out its head towards her, she rolled aside, her fingers resting upon the cold blade of a sword.

She got into a crouching stance, similar to that of a Tiger, and prepared to spring or hold her sword out if the Hammerhead thrust'd its huge head at her.

Another loud _boom_ echoed across the earth.

The gray reek above their heads got just a bit darker.

And all of a sudden, huge shards of black crystal were raining down upon them.

* * *

**(A lot of the creatures in the Oz series serve no purpose - they will be killed off. I hope you enjoyed it so far, and I REALLY would care for some interviews. Did you like my development of Aidan/Dan'ai are her protective, motherly aspect or was that MS for you? And, for those who are into Oz-related trivia, one of the Blue Division soldiers is named after one of the real Munchkin actresses. She has a medium-sized role in this tale and in others to come.)**


	21. Checkmate

**(Hello again. As I will soon be moving, updates may not be as frequent. Sorry to leave you hanging in this chapter, but I finally am starting to unclog the thicket of my imagination and bring out more that I had originally wrote. What you are seeing here is first-draft from my brain, none of the revised stuff you saw before. It's hot off the presses and you're getting to hear the first of it!)**

**(This chapter is also in two parts. This is something I had from the rough drafts, where several chapters would be in two or more parts. Here you get to see what that could have been like. Enjoy)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty - Checkmate**

_Part One - The First Gift_

The old woman's saggy skin started to straighten out and smooth out. Her brittle old bones became hard and smaller, and her body shifted between stages of life, at last shrinking to what it had once been. The little Dorothy Gale was back.

Rubbing her sore head, she turned to her companion. She saw the green skinned woman had fallen on her face, the hat still perched dangerously atop her head. In one hand was the bag they found in the Wizard's family house, and in the other hand was the Golden Dagger.

A thought came to Dorothy's head. She knew that this bad-guy, this Ikol, didn't have the Golden Mirror. Ozma still had it, and that meant he couldn't see anywhere and through anything. If they just kept him from getting his hands on the Mirror, they might just...

The sight of that man who tried to kill them, who called himself a servant of the bad guy, lying upon the ground, with his hand on the green woman's boot heel, seemed to awaken some of Dorothy's long dormant common sense.

She slipped the dagger out of the green woman's hand and stowed it away in the huge coat the Earth-man had given her. It was still draped about her shoulders.

Then the green woman started to stir.

And the silly, ignorant Dorothy rose back up in revulsion over this poor creature.

As if governed by some power beyond her own, reflexes, the green woman clamped her green-fingered hand around Damien's wrist.

"Damn you, you little brat!" the Witch's voice spat at Dorothy. "Why did you have to steal my broomstick?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"We've got to take him to the Emerald City!" an urgent Rain's voice said. Her face twitched and she became the Witch again. "And broom's the fastest way. Ha, idiot! What mode of transportation do _you_ have in mind?"

As if in answer, Damien started to wake. He tugged on his wrist, which made the green woman loose balance a little. She returned by striking the man with the bag, which put him under again, plus a blue-black bruise on his forehead.

But something fell out of the bag, something neither of them ever expected to see.

A pair of shoes that were sparkling, even in the un-light in which they sat.

"The slippers!" shouted the Witch, upon seeing the shoes on the ground. With fiendish speed, she reached out to grab the shoe but Dorothy's hand caught it first.

"Give it to me, you wench!" she roared. "They're mine, not yours! It's all I have left of my father, dammit!"

Dorothy noticed that, while the Witch roared "They're mine, not yours!" she was in the voice of the Witch. But she was starting to change over to Rain as she said the rest.

And once again, Dorothy saw blood welling up around her blue eyes.

"Father?" Dorothy asked.

"I meant 'sister.'" The Witch quickly corrected.

"No, you tell me what you meant now." Dorothy insisted. Then, as if they both had a mental agreement, the two lunged for the bag. But Dorothy was faster, or else the other shoe felt its mate close by and was gravitating towards the bearer.

"How did they get here?" Dorothy asked, looking them over. "I thought I lost them in the Deadly Desert."

"Damn if I know." the Witch commented. "Now give them back!"

"Not until you tell me about them," she said, moving them out of reach.

The Witch shrieked in anger.

"You twit! I could kill you where you stand, and you _still_ insist on defying me?"

"You ain't gonna hurt me," Dorothy said, with confidence the like she hadn't ever had around the Witch since ever. "Rainy's inside ya, and she'll keep ya from doin' anything bad. So you tell me about these here r...uh, silver...uh, what are these made of?"

"Glass, if you must know." The Witch replied. Though her voice was less harsh, and sounded like a snubbed teenager, being forced to talk about something that had offended or embarrassed her. "They're Quadling glass beads, embedded onto a regular silver slipper. But they glow red at times, whether by the sun or when they are being used."

"They belonged to your sister?"

"The Wicked Witch of the East? Our father made them for her, an obvious token of his cherishing of her over me. But I'm above such petty things as jealousy or greed. Glinda enchanted the..."

"Glinda? She helped the Wicked Witch of the East?"

The woman shook her head. "It was a gesture of good-will, her attempt to make her become good by giving Ne...the Witch her legs, even though she had no arms."

Dorothy gasped. "She didn't have no arms?"

"Of course she didn't! Aren't you listening?" The girl lowered her head and allowed the Witch to continue.

"Now give them back to me. She willed them to me, and you stole them!"

"Well, I'm mighty sorry for stealin', I didn't mean ta," Dorothy said. "But I can't just give ya back these here shoes just lahke dat."

"You promised!" The Witch shouted.

"Where's Rainy?" Dorothy insisted, backing away and hiding the shoes behind her back.

"Give them back to me!"

"Tell me why she ain't comin' through?"

"She knows nothing of the shoes," the Witch said. "They're not her battle, they're mine! Now give them to me!"

Suddenly, Dorothy dropped the shoes and stuffed her feet into them.

"There!" she said with a smile. "You want the shoes? You take me with ya."

"I can kill you and take them later just as easily!" hissed the Witch.

"I reckon y'won't." Dorothy said confidently. "Plus, there ain't no way anyone can die out..."

Suddenly, the boom echoed throughout the land. Black clouds were gathering from the west. The earth shook as huge black crystals were falling down from the sky and burying themselves into the earth. A large one stood landed a few yards before them.

"You were saying?" the Witch growled.

They saw two black figures fly through the sky overhead. One of them stopped, as if it were turning back, but then dove back after the lead and they were soon lost to the eyes of the two earth-bound women.

The green woman then turned a hateful look at Damien.

"Now come on, murderess," she said to Dorothy. "Let's take this scum back to the Emerald City."

"How we gettin' there?"

"How else? We're walking."

"That'll take fer-ever!" Dorothy protested.

"By Oz, what's happened to you?" the Witch asked. "You were never this head-strong before." She then muttered beneath her breath. "Much easier to intimidate then."

* * *

_Part Two - Ozma's Last Defense_

The General was slowly recovering. He was even more clumsy and limped more than before, but at least he was still alive.

That encounter with the Nameless had left him weakened and feeling older than his age. But there was still something driving him on.

He knew that the hopes and lives of all of Oz and all of Eve rested on his shoulders. A large responsibility, but it was enough to keep him going.

He rose up, and saw that all were silent, with grim expressions. Gone was the gaiety out of all of Ozma's retinue. They looked like they, now, saw the gravity of the situation.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He had so grown to recognize them in their ignorance that seeing them so grim was something that shocked him.

"You need to lead us, General." one of the generals of Ozma's "Royal Army" said fearfully.

"I'm a fighter, not a leader." the General said. "Besides, isn't Ozma your leader?"

"She won't come out of her room." the Scarecrow said.

The General teetered back to a standing position, and then turned to those around his bed-side.

"She must," he said. "A leader is responsible for the lives of his...or her, people."

With a familiar pat-clank, General Kloxolk hobbled off down the hall to the Throne Room. Ozma's retinue followed after him.

Despite protests from the small Ms Jamb, General Kloxolk pushed the doors open and hobbled over to the Throne. Where once the Wizard's Giant Head floated to the terror of those who were "lucky" enough to see him, now sat Ozma Tippetarius.

By the way her mascara was dripping down her face, it looked as though she had been crying. Now it looked as though she were a weak levy, holding back the flood of emotion from flowing again.

"Your Ozness," General Kloxolk said, kneeling clumsily before her. "If I may be so bold, your place is not here in the palace, it is by your peoples' side."

Ozma said nothing, not even a shot-back at the General as she usually did.

"Ozma, I might have been rude to you before in my admonitions." the General admitted. "Forgive me. But you must understand, your people need you. This is their darkest time, but your chance to make it your finest hour!"

Ozma said nothing, remaining rigidly still.

"Will you do nothing? Will you hide in your castle and wait for the end?"

Ozma's eyes were blinking, and she swallowed three times before speaking.

"I am Ozma Tippetarius," she said feebly. "I am the ruler of Oz, sole appointed by divine right of the fairy Lurline. I will not move against them. They will go away in time. I said before that if all the armies of the Nome King, or any other enemy, rose up against me, I would sit on my throne and gracefully await the end, like any girl-ruler should."

There was silence. Without the Love Magnet, her friends now saw Ozma for what she truly was.

"Then you have abandoned us," Kloxolk said, his head bowing. With all his might, he pushed himself into a standing position. "As of this moment," He announced. "The defense of this city falls to me." He then turned his back on Ozma and walked out of the room.

"If you pardon me for saying this," the Wizard said. "I mean, who am I to question the Great Ozma? But when I was ruling, I at least had the Gale Force to protect me. What you're doing is suicide! If you think that because I got my senses back after I tried to kill myself that I'll just play along with your apathy, well, sister, you've got another thing coming for you and that's that!" The Wizard turned coat and walked off after the General.

"I'm sorry, pretty lady," the Shaggy Man said. "But push has come to shove, and you're not gonna do anything about it?" He shook his scraggly beard and left the room.

The small maid-servant, Jellia Jamb, simply shook her head, made a noise like she was sniffling back tears, and then left the room.

The Cowardly Lion gave one look to his companion, the Hungry Tiger, and the two left the room. Ozma's Royal Army hung their heads in shame and left their queen all to her own wiles.

"I'm sorry, Ozma." the Scarecrow said, shaking his straw-filled head. "But my brains are telling me that what you're doing is just..." He rose his gloved hands, only to let them fall to his sides. He hung his burlap-sack head and then, like the others, followed suit in leaving Ozma.

But Lurline's heir did not cry. She did not make any acknowledgment of them leaving. Except that now that she was alone, she quietly removed the mirror that had been hidden in her dress.

_The fools_, she thought. _The ignorant, stupid fools. I still have a chance to save them all, and when I do, they will be on their knees before me, thanking me for saving the day._

* * *

**(Why is Dorothy acting so head-strong? What will Ikol do next in his sinister plan to destroy Oz? What is Ozma's plan for saving all of Oz? And what about Dan'ai in Quadling? Will she survive? Epic cliff-hangers!)**_  
_


	22. Rescued from Quadling Country

**(Hello from New Mexico! We're more than half-way done with our epic journey in the real world, so I thought I'd do a little addition to my epic story. I hope I haven't revealed too much [LeiaEmberblaze might like this chapter a little -wink-]**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One - Rescued from Quadling Country**

_Part One - Revelations_

The master summoned them to Ugabu.

Liir wished he could have finished off the rest of those mud-loving Quadlings. Though he had been repulsed by it when Bengda was destroyed, he started to get a liking to seeing the weak, pathetic creatures killed off like vermin.

Nor, of course, enjoyed it as well. Perhaps even more than he did.

But the master needed them else-where.

Uttering a foul oath through clenched teeth, he threw a green fire-ball into the forest. Nor followed suit, and the Quadlings were now struggling to stay alive with water around them, fire in front and a crystal citadel behind them.

Let them die, Liir thought. A smile came across his face as the thought of burning Quadlings filled his mind as he turned the broom northward.

While he flew, the thoughts of his master flew into his head.

"_The noose is tightening,_" The master's thought rang in Liir's head. "_Quadling is already in our grasp, and Munchkinland is falling rapidly. Our new allies arise from the Vinkus, but we must cut off their escape. Take Ugabu and find Kumbrica. She will be valuable later on._"

Liir nodded and bent his broom northwest, with Nor following on behind him.

Well, not his broom. It belonged to another...

But she was dead, he told himself. And good riddance. He hated her and would rather die than admit that she was his mother.

Just as he'd rather kill Aileena than admit that she was his daughter by the Quadling Candle.

He had cut all ties with his past: with the Witch, with Shell, with the Animals, with that Quadling-b*tch who said she had slept with him and bore his son. He was free, his own person.

And his master, Ikol, would ensure that he would see that.

Nor's flying implement had been created by the master himself when he opened their minds to the truth. It was a broom of black crystals with a brush made of black smoke. She had power of her own, given to her by the master, but Liir was still more powerful.

After all, no normal human could have done the things Liir did.

He smiled.

He knew that he had power now.

Several hours later, the north-western-most corner of the Great Kells, as they became the Pertha Hills in south-western Gilikin, appeared before Liir's eyes. Ugabu was directly to the left, and he turned his broom accordingly, with Nor following behind.

Suddenly, the broom jerked.

It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Liir to feel powerless.

Something, or someone, else was controlling his broom.

"Master?"

But there were no thoughts in his head.

All that was out of the ordinary were two insignificant specks on the ground far below him.

Nor was out-flying him.

He shook his head and flew off after his sister.

A few minutes later, they landed together on the edge of a river. They could see a swan flapping gayly about on the surface of the lake, squawking loudly and very self-confidently.

Liir turned to Nor, who nodded at her brother and smiled. Liir shook his head. She was a sight, and not that she was a young woman with pale white hair: scarring herself so that she could never receive pleasure or bear children meant that she had to seek for excitement in other forms. Torture was one such thing, and Liir didn't know exactly how they would be hurting the swan.

On the contrary, the master sent them there to disenchant her.

* * *

_Part Two - Tomorrow_

If anything was close to hell in Oz, it was the Quadling Country.

Large amounts of forests were burned to the ground, and many of the races had been made extinct by the massive forest fires. Dan'ai and her army were making their way north to the Yellow Brick Road while Lak'hara and the others were going the other way.

But it seemed that they were now lost.

Dan'ai just seemed to be very detached after seeing the death of her friend. Snipp and Fern Fromica were now in charge of both the Munchkin and Quadling groups, for Dan'ai seemed to just be wholly indifferent.

The army was now resting in the dried-out bed of a river, spanned by Locasta's bridge. It had existed long before the Good Witch of the South, the one who disappeared shortly after the Wizard's departure, became known in Oz. Many believed that this was sacred to her, and that her power existed somewhat in this place.

For them, it was protection. The falling black crystals meant that the army needed some-place to take shelter, even if it were a simple bridge.

Fern, one of the shorter type of Munchkins, was trying to rouse Dan'ai from her stupor. Snipp was busy with her own group, for, even among the inhabitants of Munchkinland, there was no camaraderie between the taller Munchkinlanders and the shorter Munchkins.

"Please, Captain Aidan," Fern said. "You're in charge of the Red Division. You have to lead!"

Dan'ai said nothing.

"What are we going to do in this marshy wasteland without you?" the Munchkin-girl squeaked. "You're our guide!"

Dan'ai shook her head.

"To what end?" she asked. "The innocent die and the guilty go unpunished. What good is there in this world? What good is there in fighting for a safer world for the innocent when they aren't safe to inhabit it once we've given our lives for them?"

Fromica said nothing, for she was shocked herself at what she heard. Her family were farmers, and her sons were all in Munchkinland by now. If the rumors were true, it was in turmoil. She feared for their lives, and Dan'ai's statement put her into fear.

Suddenly, the shadow of the bridge became sharper.

As if roused by this revelation, Dan'ai rose from where she sulked and climbed onto the bridge, looking to the east. Through the bare trees and on the top of the mountains, Dan'ai saw the sun peak out from the reek of black clouds. It made her smile, for this was not the first time that this happened.

A soft ringing buzzed in her ears, coming from behind.

Turning, Dan'ai saw a small group of fire-flies rising up to greet the sun.

The ringing came from them, and as Dan'ai listened to it further, she thought that it was forming into words. The flies started flying off towards the road that came from the bridge. They were moving toward the sun.

Dan'ai smiled, for there was a presence ushering from that haze of flies that filled her with hope.

"Get up, everyone!" she called out.

The women warriors got to their feet sleepily. Snipp and Fromica ran up from behind, hoping to see what had roused their captain from her stupor.

"Follow those flies!" she shouted. With a new-found hope, she ran off after the flies.

Both the Munchkin and the Munchkinlander thought that Dan'ai was started to lose it after seeing so much devastation. However, one glance at the flies and they began to hear the singing, urging them on and filling them with hope.

They followed after Dan'ai, the hope flowing throughout the small army.

Rising up against this beacon, the darkness shrouded up the sun and they were fearful that it was gone for good.

But Dan'ai was following the flies. She gave no notice to what was around her, or the darkness that covered up the sun.

About sunset, when the darkness was deepening, Dan'ai halted. The flies had vanished, but there was no more of a need for them. Hope had filled her and led her through the Quadling Country and its devastation.

Just before her was the Yellow Brick Road.

Behind her, the Red and Blue Divisions rejoiced.

The Emerald City was just a day's march away.

* * *

**(Did you catch it? It should have been so obvious. Just wait, there will be more in the next chapter, when we discover what _else_ is in the bag Dorothy and Elphaba found in the Wizard's house - and how the Slippers got in there as well. In L. Frank Baum's last Oz-series book, _Glinda of Oz_, he has the princess Coo-Ee-Oh, who calls herself the original Kumbric Witch [though spelt differently, mind you], turned into a vain Swan who is obsessed with herself. I hated this, for it was the greatest anti-climactic killing off of a villain in the history of poor killing offs, especially since Kumbrica is supposed to be something of a venerable goddess figure of the pleasure-faith of Oz. So I'm bringing her back...and she _will_ be important later, much later)**

**(I'm not sure when I'll return, but do tell me what you thought of this chapter and the story so far)**


	23. The Return

**(I don't give a damn that nobody reads my stories or comments/reviews on them. I will finish this one in spite of your apathy! Now, if anyone is even _still_ reading these, get ready for the action to start)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two - The Return**

Kloxolk was nervously pacing one of the rails of the Emerald Palace. The rain of the black crystals that fell across the land was more than enough. The people of the Emerald City were rioting because of Ozma's deleterious behavior, and the Tin Woodsman was hiding in one of the rooms of the palace, crying in fear of his friend, the Tin Soldier.

The General, meanwhile, was making plans. So far, only Boq and Khyorke had returned. Kirriku was busy summoning the Birds to battle, and no word yet had been heard concerning Ruddrix or Aidan. He had seen that thing, that new castle, rise from out of the swampland in the South. He feared the worst, and therefore began his battle-plans.

A few others were in the room, looking at a detailed map of the land before the Emerald City.

"It's possible they will attack from the south," Kloxolk said. "If they have abandoned the western castle, then this one will be their main position of attack. We need to defend..." He moved his flesh-hand across a wide range across the Madeleines and the Great Kells. "...this whole region from attack."

"The City should be easy to defend." the Wizard said. "Any assault would have to come from up the Yellow Brick Road."

"Restwater is a natural barrier against anyone, I should know." the Scarecrow said. "I was almost lost on that lake."

"There is a narrow pass between the Gilikin River and the northern edge of Kellswater," Kloxolk said, pointing to the place on the map.

"That was the sight of several conflicts," Boq stated. "General Jinjur led her army up that way during the revolt before Ozma took power."

"The rivers will have to service us," the General said. "Our main army will be positioned here, along the fields on this side of the Pine Barrens." He then turned to those gathered around him. "Kirriku will lead the Birds to attack from the air, while Khyorke will..."

A loud 'ahem' sounded from behind. They turned around and saw the Lion standing on all fours. Before him was his red bow, discarded from atop his mane. He looked a lot more threatening without bows.

"I have been running all my life," the Lion said. "From my responsibilities, from the truth, from anything I thought was too big for me..." He then looked up at them, and they saw a fire in his eyes that was wholly unnatural for him. "No more!" He rose up on his hind legs and let out an ear-splitting roar.

"I am Brrr, a coward no more!" he roared. "Oz will not fall while I am alive!"

Cheers came from those around, even from the General.

"I volunteer to lead the Animals to battle." he said.

"Wait," the General suggested. "Charging head-long into battle isn't the same thing as courage. You have to be..."

"I am the King of the Forest!" roared Brrr. "It is my royal duty to lead my subjects into battle against the enemy."

"If you wish," Kloxolk added. "You, King Brrr, shall lead the Animals from the ground. I will lead the main bulk of the army into the melee."

"Wait!" the Wizard said, raising a finger. "You'll need this!" He whistled and Tik-Tok wobbled into the room.

"I know, he's not much to look at," the Wizard said. "But throw him into battle and he's worth a dozen men!"

"Wonderful!" the Scarecrow exclaimed.

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Kloxolk said, warily eying the Wizard with eyes that were not yet trusting.

"Well," the Wizard stated. "His gears have to be wound up tight or he's not much use. So that means..."

"You tag along behind and keep it wound up?" Kloxolk deduced. The Wizard nodded.

Then the General said something that none of them expected him to say.

"Done."

* * *

Once again, the General's gaze was turned to the west, looking for some kind of sign that Ruddrix was alive.

But there was another sign on the horizon. A flicker of light from the north-west caught his attention. It was a light that shone out from the darkness of the clouds, but was not a natural light. It flickered from pale white to fiery red.

Maybe it was some kind of signal?

The General summoned Khyorke to his side and flew off towards the edge of the city, following the light. A few minutes into the flight, the small flash of light was seen again, this time almost blood red in color. The Hippogryph turned towards the light and dove down closer to the earth.

Khyorke's hooves galloped onto the earth the moment they touched the ground. The General, meanwhile, slid off his back and made his way to the source of the light.

A pair of glowing shoes on Dorothy's feet.

"Rain! Princess Dorothy!" the General said, hobbling over to them. "You've arrived in the nick of time. We thought you were dead."

"If only." growled the Witch.

"Gen'ral!" Dorothy said. "We got us a pris'ner."

She pointed behind them, where Rain had, on a bit of rope, a man in strange clothes. The General also noticed that she had a brown bag in her hand.

"So?" he asked. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Dorothy walked over to the General and indicated him to lean down so that she could whisper into his ear. He complied, albeit it was a little hard for him to do so with his limps being the way they are.

He then got back up and turned to Rain.

"We'd better get you indoors." he said. "You didn't see it, did you?"

"See what?" the Witch spat at him.

"The crystals." The General indicated all around him, to where they saw large black crystals lying everywhere, thrown upon the ground.

"It's a mess," he said at last. "The castle in the Vinkus exploded, shattering all of this across Oz."

"Ain't that a good thing?" Dorothy asked. "That that there castle ain't there no more?"

The witch shook her head. The old Dorothy was coming back.

"Not when the same black crystals which rob us of life and magic are now spread across the greater half of Oz!" the General returned. "Now come with me!"

They mounted back on Khyorke and took off into the sky. Hippogryphs are incredibly powerful for their light bone-mass, but even Khyorke was getting agitated when Dorothy kept kicking him in the sides and pulling his feathers. Rain said nothing, but held onto the rope that secured their prisoner with both hands from the very back.

As they flew over the Emerald City, they got their first look at the amount of damage the crystal storm had caused. Buildings were littered with the huge black monoliths, smoke from fires had erupted in several places around the city and cries of the citizens rose to the air.

"Ozma knows this is happening," the General said to Dorothy as they drew near the palace. "But she will do nothing about it."

"As she shouldn't," Dorothy said. "Her place is as ruler: clean-up is a servant's job."

The General said nothing, for he was starting to expect this kind of snide behavior from the princess.

Upon returning to the palace, they found all preparing for the battle. They had no armor and few weapons, but the people were being prepared for the coming battle. The General took them to a side room of the Western Hall, where he spoke to them privately.

"Okay, now," he said to them. "I want to know what happened when you jumped into that portal."

"There's nothing to tell." the Witch angrily spat. "I don't want any part of your charade, I just want to die."

"What happened to the one who was in battle with the Wizard for Animal rights?"

"I never gave a damn about Animal rights! My only interest was in finding..." She paused. "...well, it doesn't matter because they're dead, so just let me die already!"

"What about what you did for Oz?" the General asked. "I heard many rumors about you, and your crusade for the Animals. That's why I came to you, do you remember?"

"I don't know what you're babbling about, old man," she returned. "But I did nothing for Oz. I was being controlled by someone. I thought that killing her would end it, ha! Apparently I'm such a failure as a witch that I can't even kill someone!"

"You won't even lift a finger to fight for Oz?"

"For Oz?" she mocked. "What has Oz ever done for me? And don't even give me some Unionist rhetoric! I don't believe in anything, and anyone who believes in something they can't see or feel is a fool. Now let me go and die!"

"Don't let 'er go!" Dorothy cried. "She's outta her mind!"

"Stop her, please!" Another voice spoke. Had the General not been staring her directly in the eyes, he would not have believed that the voice came from the green woman's lips.

"What?" he asked suspiciously. "Just a second ago, you wanted to die."

"I don't want to die!" the second voice begged. "It's her, the other one inside my head!"

"Don't listen to her! She's of no consequence anymore! She shouldn't exist, as I shouldn't. Now let me die!"

"Listen to yourself!" the General roared. "Oz is falling apart around you and you won't even lift a finger to help us? You're as useless as Ozma!"

Dorothy gasped.

But whether it was because the General insulted Ozma, or because the Witch shot him with a fire-ball, throwing him into the other end of the room, she did not know.

"Don't **ever** associate me with that potentate! I am **real**, that little ninny is nothing! Now I'm off to die, and don't even bother looking for me or trying to talk me out! I'm dead to Oz"

She reached into the brown bag, took out a broken twig, threw the bag at Dorothy and then stormed out of the room, sending a very scared-looking Jellia Jamb falling back in terror. The servant-girl then got back up and ran over to the General and Dorothy.

"You two have got to come!" she cried. "The Nomes are attacking!"

Kloxolk hobbled up to his feet and went after her, drawing his sword out. She led them to the Western Gate of the city, where they saw a small band of Nomes approaching the City. The General lowered his sword and walked over to the nearest one, who had a red cloak on his shoulder and a black dog at his side.

"Muugh!" he said. "You made it!"

"We had hell getting here, though." the Nome said in his gravelly voice.

"The army is almost ready, we just have to..."

A moment later, the sound of a voice crying came from the Southern Gate. Kloxolk told Muugh to take his army to join the others and don't take no for an answer before running off to where the sound came from.

* * *

The Southern Side of the Emerald City was in chaos. People were pointing to the sky, where red light was raining down upon the land of Oz. But once the light hit the ground, it dissolved into silvery dust.

"What is this?" Muugh asked.

"The Rainbow," the General answered, remembering what the Enemy had said to Ozma. "We haven't much time. He'll be back, we need to be ready." He then saw, in the light of the weeping red rim of the Rainbow, a group off to the south making their way to the City.

"The Quadling-woman made it!" he exclaimed. They were moving fast, and it was no time at all before they were all panting and doubled over just before the gates of the City.

"Aidan, isn't it?" the General asked her. She nodded. "You're just in time."

"Well, Locasta might have disappeared," she returned. "But her spirit watches the swamp-lands to this day."

"Are you ready for battle?" he asked.

"The Yellow and Purple Divisions haven't returned," Aidan answered. "They went to the Vinkus to recruit more soldiers, but they haven't returned yet."

"Damn!" the General exclaimed. "Well, we'll have to make due. In case you haven't noticed, the Rainbow is starting to die. That means the Enemy is coming for us. We've got to prepare for his..."

Suddenly, the howl-whinny of a horse came from behind.

All eyes turned as Ozma Tippetarius rode out on her Sawhorse out for the Yellow Brick Road.

"What in Oz's name is she doing?" Aidan asked.

"We've got to go after her!" the General said. He whistled for Khyorke, who flew up to his side. He threw himself onto the Hippogryph's back, while Aidan lept after him. They flew off after the speck that was now Ozma and the Sawhorse.

But what they didn't notice was the Tin Woodsman running after them.

* * *

**(Next part coming soon, with more shocking events occuring! Yes, I made the Cowardly Lion un-cowardly. Sue me! He's such a sissy in the Oz series, it sickened me!)**


	24. Betrayed

**(I cut out a lot from the last chapter, since I decided to not explain everything that has happened in my story until the very end or until another story. Here we see what Ozma was up to. I would like to thank LeiaEmberblaze for being the only one who reviewed: so far, Locasta hasn't really appeared physically [she's dead, after all], but I will have more on her towards the end. Everything comes together in the closing chapter[s]. So keep on reading if you want the answers!)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three - Betrayed**

The border of the Pine Barrens and the Restwater.

A great deal of the forest had been destroyed by the falling crystals, and now the forest stood barren. The trees were naked, leafless and dying, and some were gone altogether.

At the head of what had once been the forest there now stood Ikol, glowing with power like a black hole in the middle of existence. At his right and left were his servants, Liir and Nor Tiggular, but one was missing.

Above, the red light was turning to a shade of orange and was falling like rain. The black clouds still blocked out the sun.

Before them came Ozma, and some of her retinue following on behind.

They were here for the parley.

"Your Ozness!" Kloxolk said as he threw himself off Khyorke's back and hobbled over to the Sawhorse. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You heard what he said!" she returned. "He'd destroy the City unless we came to his parley."

"But you know what he wants!" the General added. "We cannot gi..."

All was silent as Ikol strode over to gaze down upon Ozma. It was impossibly high, and the red eyes, though impersonal and insensitive, were boring into Ozma's skull with utter contempt and mockery.

"You are here," the Enemy said. "There will be no parley, no deals. Give me the Wonders or I will destroy all of Oz and your city to find them." An armored glove pointed to the sky. "Already, see how my power is at hand as I suck the life out of the Rainbow, beloved by the fairies of Lurline's band. When the purple falls upon Oz, the Rainbow will die and with it, your goddess Lurline will be unable to save Oz from anything, much less me."

"I don't have the Wonders." Ozma said. "But my people are in trouble. I would be a bad ruler if I did nothing."

"You have done nothing until now," the Enemy said. "What were you then?"

"I have something for you, though, Ikol." Even as Ozma said the Enemy's name, he seemed to glow even darker with greater power and grow a little larger.

"Unless it is the Wonders, I have nothing more to say."

The General had nothing to say. This was quickly becoming just a word-play.

"You have no armies," Ozma said. "What can you do if I refuse you?"

The hand that was raised to the sky seized Ozma by the throat and lifted her up to Ikol's line of sight.

"I have single-handedly spread my crystals across your land," hissed the Enemy. "You are powerless without your magics." He threw her to the earth. "Now give me the Wonders or die."

Ozma rose to her feet, trying to look dignified and aloof despite being threatened by the imposing figure before her.

"Be thankful, Ozma," Ikol said. "That I do not ask for you to return my servant to me."

Kloxolk said nothing. Who was this servant? Was it the Witch? But she said she believed in nothing. Was it that man that Dorothy brought back with her from the other world? Where was she again?

Dan'ai, meanwhile, stood quaking at Khyorke's side. She could sense the emptiness coming from the crystals that grew on the Enemy's body, and it filled her with terror. Any hope that Locasta's presence in Quadling had given her seemed like a poor child's joke compared to the reality of this fear.

She watched in frozen terror as the Tin Woodsman was running up from behind and knocked the General on his face as he came to a halt before Ozma.

"My lovely ruler!" cried the Tin Woodsman in his usual dandy-voice. "It's so horrible! The Tin Soldier was struck by one of those black crystals and now he's insane! You've got to do something!"

Ikol laughed.

"Even now, your people are in disarray as you are powerless to do anything." he mocked. "Now...give me the Wonders."

Ozma reached a hand into a secret place in her dress and pulled out a hand mirror that glowed gold.

"I have one of them," she said. "They've told me it will show whatever the seeker wants to see."

"You are wise," Ikol said. "With this, I do not need to know where the other Wonders are since I can find them myself. Although..." He indicated to the golden things on his person already. "...I do not know what else I need. I am already more powerful than Lurline herself. Now give it to me."

"One condition," Ozma said. "Once you have it, you will leave Oz and never return to trouble my stupid, lovably pathetic people ever again."

Dan'ai, Nick, Khyorke and Kloxolk were shocked to hear their ruler speak this way. Did she give any consideration to them? And the General, who knew a little of the Wonders, knew that she was holding one in her hand now.

Even worse, she was offering it to the Nameless Enemy.

Had she gone mad?

"You know I can simply kill you and take the Wonder by force," he said.

"Please, don't do this!" the General pleaded.

"Your advice has been bad ever since," Ozma said to the General, turning aside to speak to him. "Its brought nothing but misfortune. You'll be at my feet, begging for my forgiveness, when I've saved us all." She then turned to Ikol.

"I know," she said. "But I feel that somewhere deep down inside, you're a good person. You don't like killing, or hurting people. All I need to do is give you what you want and you'll go away." She held out the Golden Mirror, which Ikol took with one hand and placed it upon the Golden Belt.

"Thank you, Ozma," the Enemy said. A pair of red eyes looked into the Mirror. "I see your General has risen an army to oppose me. Ha!" With another hand raised to the sky, the Enemy brought up tall, silvery-clear crystals that radiated the same emptiness that the black crystals gave off. These sprouted up all over Oz, not just the Pine Barrens. All around them came a huge army of all sorts of things: golems, Animals, rebel Munchkins, Nomes, demons and other things that Ikol had tortured into service through hopelessness or the flaunting of his power.

As the General was rising to his feet, and he saw Ikol's army before him, he became a little nauseous. They were so many, it made his army look like nothing but a band of school-yard bullies against a legion.

"Wait!" Ozma said. "You said you only wanted the Wonders!"

"Ha!" the Enemy shot back. "The others mean nothing to me. I am invincible with these alone! I must say, Ozma, thank you. You've made destroying your beloved Oz that much easier."

"But we had a deal!"

Ikol laughed mockingly. "I only went along with your deal to see if you were naive, and stupid, enough to trust the person who killed Locasta..." A gasp came from Dan'ai and Ozma. "and destroyed your people. I see that..." He laughed. "...you are not that naive and stupid: you are MORE than I ever imagined!"

Ozma collapsed, tears streaming from her eyes.

"There is nothing good within this body," Ikol said, moving a hand over its body. "My only wish is to remake Oz in my own image, and if I have to kill you all to achieve that goal, it is nothing to me."

The Enemy disappeared in a flash of gold, alighting to a tall pillar of clear crystal straddling the length of Kumbrica's Pass. His two servants took off on their brooms faster than those on the ground see, and were soon at their master's side.

The others were left dumb-founded. Ozma had sold Oz to her worst Enemy.

"I-I...I can't believe you could do such a thing!" squealed the Tin Woodsman, his joints creaking as he shivered in disgust. He then turned to the General. "It seems our leader has abandoned us. What are our orders?"

For the first time in his life, Kloxolk was both stunned and incapable of speaking. He had always hoped that Ozma would come to her senses and lead her people to safety from their darkest hour. But now there was no such hope: she had betrayed them. All of Oz and the survival of her people now rested in his hands.

* * *

**(Did you like it? If so, review! The story is almost done and I've got no feedback at all! WTH?)**


	25. The Battle of Oz

**(This has been long-time coming. I imagined this scene from the very get-go, but am completely disappointed as to how it turned out here. All the action and drama is gone, and it just feels so bland and hideous. Anywho, its part of the story and I can't cut it out. So just use your imagination to make it seem better and less like a cheesy "climactic battle scene" from Tim Burton's _Alice in Wonderland_. Seriously, I thought this was going to be good, and I have no feedback on whether this _is_ good or just following the formula of those Harry Potter movies [you know, they said "Voldemort's on the move" and "He's really back" every two-freaking-seconds, it became cliche and just trying to make the story seem epic]. I hope you enjoy my boring action scene.)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four - The Battle of Oz**

Yellow stars were falling upon the land as the small group made their way back to the Emerald City. This hopeless situation was already getting more grim. Hope failed as the Lurlinists looked upon the falling Rainbow. All was lost, they feared, for the Rainbow was, to them, the bridge between Oz and the other fairy worlds, by which Lurline traveled to this land. If she could not return, there was truly no hope for them.

Meanwhile, Kloxolk had assembled Ozma's retinue and the others together in the Emerald Throne Room. Ozma was off in her own room, for she was sulking after having realized that she betrayed her people. Jellia Jamb was also nowhere to be found, and the green woman had disappeared as well: probably looking for some way to kill herself.

There was an air of unease and doom resting over the assembly in the Throne Room. After a lengthy debriefing of their journey to the other world by Dorothy (though Kloxolk felt some details had been conveniently left out), all sat in silent.

"I never thought Ozma would betray her own people," Kloxolk said. "Still she refuses to go out and face the Enemy on the field of battle."

"But what hope is there that we can beat such an army?" Boq asked. "It's too big!"

"Even if Lak'hara were to arrive in time," Aidan said. "Her force is too small to make any difference."

The General placed his flesh hand over his face. It was enough to break a man, the kind of responsibility he had to shoulder: not only was he now responsible for the survival of Oz, but he was such in a time and place when that mission seemed impossible to carry out.

"Gentlemen, ladies," he began, after a lengthy pause. "I am not Ozian. But my duty is to protect and to serve, and that duty lead me here to Oz, to find some strength to defend Ev against this Enemy. But what will become of Ev if we fail our task here?"

"There's no hope of winning," the Tin Woodsman said. "I feel it in my heart."

"And I know it in my brain," added the Scarecrow.

"That's just it, though," Kloxolk continued. "Our brains and our feelings have abandoned us in this, our time of need."

"What else d'we got goin' fer us?" Dorothy asked gloomily.

"Responsibility," the General answered. "Princess, you told me that the golems were in your world. Well, that's it. The Enemy is not going to stop with just Oz. He's going to overthrow every world and if he is not stopped, he will destroy all life just to reshape all worlds in his image."

"But we've already told you, he can't be stopped!" Boq insisted.

"I know. But we have a responsibility. Boq, you are a Munchkin. You were born and raised in Munchkinland. You have the responsibility to see that your land is safe from harm, even if you were not governor." He turned to Aidan. "You know of what I speak...all of you." He turned around to the others. "We may hate fighting, we may hate death and everything that war brings, but there comes a time when we cannot keep our heads buried in the ground any longer, choosing to be blind to the obvious. A time when we must stand up for our families, for our friends, for our neighbors, for our beliefs, and fight to defend them!

"The Enemy cannot be beaten, you say. But we are going to fight him: we are going to oppose him and let all of Oz know that we did not simply sit in our rooms, waiting for the end to come. That is the difference between a hero and a coward: a hero takes on the responsibility to defend, while the coward runs from that responsibility. This day, my friends, let us be heroes together. If we die today, we will die free, not as slaves to fear and despair." The General unsheathed his sword and brandished it high above his head.

"**FOR FREEDOM!**"

His cry was taken up by the others, who raised their hands or paws into the air and returned the cry.

* * *

Out front of the Emerald City, the rag-tag army of Oz was assembled as best they could be. Farmers with pitch-forks and scythes from all corners of Oz, the newly-demoted Royal Army of Oz, now consisting of twenty-six privates and one General, what remained of the Blue and Red Divisions of Glinda's royal guards, Animals of all shapes and sizes, those Nomes who followed Muugh, the few trained guards from Gilikin that Khyorke could find, Tik-Tok, and a host of birds flying above under Kirriku.

Almost two thousand Ozians against an ocean of endless foes.

At the front of the army, Kloxolk and the others were making the final preparations for battle.

"If you'll allow me," the Wizard said. "I can make some contraptions on our side of the Restwater. They can hurl things at the Enemy as they advance, giving us some cover."

"I thought you couldn't use your magic to hurt anyone." the General wondered.

"That's true," the Wizard said. "But I won't be using magic for this, just good ol'fashioned elbow grease."

"What about Tik-Tok?" Aidan asked.

"He'll be fine," the Wizard said. "I've sent the Scarecrow to keep him wound up."

"And the army, sir?" Aidan asked.

"Ozma's Royal Army? Well, they've been more willing to follow orders after I took control. I hope they won't loose heart in the middle of a fight...for all the good all twenty-six of them could do."

"General," Khyorke said. "You cannot go into battle in your condition. Please, ride on my back. You'll be faster astride me than on foot."

"I cannot burden you, my friend," the General said. "You have to be with the Birds." Kloxolk then turned to the Wizard. "Ask Muugh, some of his Nomes know how to use machines. They will be able to help you."

The Wizard nodded fiercely and ran off toward the edge of Restwater.

"General, I insist!" the Hippogryph said, stepping in before Kloxolk. "You cannot go into battle on foot!"

Before the General could protest, a shout came from behind them. Turning, he saw a green-clad figure riding out of the Emerald City on the Sawhorse.

"On second thought," the General said to the Hippogryph. "I think I will."

He threw himself onto the Hippogryph's back and rode out toward the lone rider. If he were any lesser man, he would have fallen off Khyorke's back in shock.

Sitting atop the Sawhorse was Ozma, dressed in an emerald battle-dress, bearing not her scepter but a sword of veridium similar to that wielded by General Kloxolk.

"I see that you've gotten everything in readiness, General." Ozma said. Kloxolk noticed immediately that her voice held none of the annoying girlish squeals or giggling of before. "Thank you."

"Your Ozness," the General said. "I thought you did not wish to fight."

"Your speech galvanized me into action," she said.

"You heard that, did you?" the General said humbly.

"I have wronged you, General." she stated. "Forgive me, and let me ride at your side against our Enemy."

The General nodded his head.

"They are your people, Your Ozness," he said. "You should lead."

She nodded and held her sword aloft.

"**FOR FREEDOM!**" she shouted, giving the Sawhorse a kick, which sent it off on a heavy stride. Khyorke galloped after her, and the army got up and marched on towards the slowly advancing horde of enemies.

* * *

On the battlements of the Emerald City, Dorothy sat. Her friend, the Tin Woodsman, stood rigidly at her side, having told her everything that was going on. Despite the urgency of their predicament, he was still too much of a dandy to go into battle. Dorothy, on the other hand, was shocked that Ozma did what she had done.

"I can't believe she jus' gave that there Enemy th' Mere." she sighed for the tenth time. "We're hopeless if he's got it."

The Tin Woodsman turned his gaze from the land around them, for it was grim and wholly un-beautiful. As he turned aside, he saw a glint of gold coming from Dorothy's hand.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Oh, just one of them Wonder thingies," she returned. "It ain't gonna do no good, now that th' Enemy got the Mere."

"Why?"

"Well, the Mere let's ya see whatever ya wanna. Nuthin' can hide from it."

"What does the Dagger do?"

"I think it had sumthin' t'do wit breakin' th' other Wonders 'n killin' anythin' that..."

Dorothy paused as an idea was forming inside her small brain.

She suddenly ran off from the wall, clutching the Dagger close to her body. The Tin Woodsman realized that she had left and ran after her as fast as his metal body could take him.

* * *

The battle was joined.

The enemy had already surrounded the small force of Ozma's. There was no escape. Kloxolk and Aidan pushed against the rear guard's lines to make some path of escape, should the need arise. On the front, Ozma struck out from atop her Sawhorse. The veridium sword she bore cut through anything in her path, and only the Nomes or golems could withstand the Sawhorse's relentless charge. By the Animal lines, the Lion sent all cowering in fear before his mighty roar and the swinging of his paws.

But the Enemy kept on advancing. Those who were not keeping off the Ozians were crossing the Restwater. The lake had been drained and a huge, empty basin sat where the river had once been. Ikol's forces were now walking unhindered across Restwater, with nothing stopping them from taking the City while the army was encumbered.

Suddenly, a horn was blown. To the south, marching in the shadow of Kumbrica's Pass and the giant crystal that stood there, was a small force that struck against the army of Ikol. It would be enough to get them defending their flank, and just enough to move their attention from the main force.

Dan'ai smiled at this. Lak'hara had survived, and brought the Vinkan tribes together to battle the Enemy.

But her smile faded. The force was too small to make any real difference against the sea of the opposing force.

Green fire was raining down from the sky, and not just from the dying Rainbow. Kloxolk looked to the sky and saw two black specks ringing the Birds on both sides, heaving green fire-balls at them and down upon the army. Some of the Wizard's contraptions on the bank of what had once been the Restwater were now burning, proof that he had failed.

Still they fought on.

Kloxolk knew that there was no hope. The Vinkans made their assault from the rear, but drove almost none of the Enemy's attention from the main army. The main unit was being quickly over-ran, and many of Ikol's forces were on their way to the City.

Two things suddenly happened...

From atop his broom, Liir threw green fire-balls down upon the Ozians. The fools, he thought: they were too easy to kill, giving absolutely no interest at all.

Suddenly, his broom gave another powerful jerk. It was Ugabu all over again.

"Master?" his thought asked.

But another face answered.

On his right, he saw a black figure slowly moving closer to him. Fire-balls shot out of its hands at him, and he was barely able to roll out of the way to avoid a blast of fire. He was moving so fast, he could barely see the figure, weaving dangerously just to his right. He leaned into a right-hand turn and came just close enough to see a flash of green from the figure.

A cackling laugh came from the black figure, as it vanished back into a speck in his peripheral vision.

A shiver of fear came into Liir's being, a fear that no threats from the mind of Ikol could assuage.

That black speck was the very person he feared, that he had been running from his whole life: the very person he hated more than all of Oz or Shell.

Elphaba Thropp.

A fire-ball struck a Stork, sending the poor Bird falling helplessly to the battlefield. Muugh vanished into the earth and reassembled a few feet away. That Stork had an unlaid egg in her body, and it cracked as she fell to her death. It was enough that he was fighting for his life, but now he had to be dodging falling Birds.

And hope that they were not egg-filled, or he'd be as good as dead.

He roared at a group of Munchkin rebels, who ran in fear from the terrifying Nome. Behind him, another Nome reassembled out of the ground and held up his hands as a sign that he was on their side.

"Muugh," the Nome said. "The Enemy is moving on the City!"

"We've got to move!" Muugh said. "They cannot be allowed to take the Emerald City."

The Nome ordered his army to move, but then felt an odd scratching on his shoulder. He was ready to swat at it as if it were a fly, but a bark made him realize that it was no enemy.

It was the Fox.

"Muugh!" Ruddrix shouted over the din of the battle. "Let me go! I can fight!"

"No! You're still too weak!"

But the Fox had already escaped his grasp and was off like a shot, running toward the City gates to defend it with whatever he could.

Brave, but very foolish.

One by one, enemies started coming after the Fox. He was now running, not just to save the City Gate from being overthrown but for his life as well.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground before the City, as the sky turned from a sickly green to a light shade of pale blue. A haze of clear bubbles fizzled away from where the bolt struck the earth.

A figure rose up out of the crater, tossing aside a black cloak, and rising to her full heigth. Behind her, a few other fairies rose up, shooting powerful blasts of sparks into the advancing enemy, sending them falling to the ground in defeat.

Ruddrix almost deposited his lunch from out of his stomach and onto the ground in shock to see who this new-comer was. Not Lurline, but someone wholly unlooked for:

Glinda the Good.

The huge Roc settled down on the battlefield, sending enemies sprawling to their feet in the huge gales his wings stirred up. The only one who was still standing after the attack was the only one who had ever withstood the power of his wings without falling down.

Evemar Kloxolk.

"General!" the Roc shouted. "We've got a problem!"

"I know!" Kloxolk said. "We're losing."

"The Princess Dorothy and the Tin Woodsman," Kirriku corrected. "They are moving across the Great Kells towards Kumbrica's Pass."

"What?" the General roared. "But that is directly where the Enemy's crystal is located. This is madness!"

From behind came Ozma, atop her Sawhorse, with her sword drawn.

"Your Ozness," Kloxolk said. "Take charge of the Army. You have Glinda and the Vinkans on your side. Save the day."

"Wait, no!" she shouted. "I can't lead an army by myself! I don't know what to do!"

"I will return, Your Ozness." the General said. "Now lead your people to a brighter future."

The General walked over to Kirriku, but saw Khyorke gallop through several Hammerheads to the General's side.

"General! Let me take you where you wish to go!"

"No, Khyorke." Kloxolk returned, shaking his head. "Those crystals will kill you if you're too close."

Kloxolk then gripped onto Kirriku's back and the Roc flew off toward Kumbrica's Pass.

* * *

**(There you have it. I had so wanted this scene to be more epic, but it ended up being an epic fail and stagnation all around. Oh well, I promise interesting things will happen in the next chapter and I'll try to make it more enjoyable)**


	26. The Final Choice

**(AN: Long time no update. Well, the move was hell, the aftermath of the move has been hell and I have internet...well, I don't actually. I've been having to take trips to the local library and upload chapters this way. Anywho, I hope you spotted Ikol's moment of _hamartia_, because it proves to be his downfall in this chapter. Enjoy!)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five - The Final Choice**

Something had come over Dorothy. Gone was the apathetic, callous farm-girl spoiled by life as a princess. In her stead was a woman in a little girl's body, who had seen her sins come back to haunt her. Rather than run and hide from them, the practical, resourceful side of her took over and sent her to do the one thing that she knew she was good at.

Killing.

It was a horrid thought. Back home, she never thought of herself as a killer. It was considered a great evil to take another person's life: in her youth in Kansas, she was saddened by the loss of an animal as well. She never thought of herself as the killing type.

But she had thrown water on the Wicked Witch of the West, which melted her to death. She dumped water on Mombi, which melted her as well (though to this day, Dorothy still could not figure out why Mombi melted, even though she wasn't green). She was also ready to throw water on Rain (as silly as that sounded), just out of the thought that she could be the Witch come back to life. The words the Witch, or was it Elphaba, told her that day in the tower of Kiamo Ko, a hundred years ago, came back to haunt her.

But it was true. She killed everything of hers with which she came in contact. And it would be no different than the General and the armies below, fighting on the field of battle. They would be taking lives, and so would she.

But this would be different.

In her mind, Dorothy rehearsed everything she had heard about the Golden Wonders, fearful that some loophole would arise that would make her plan impossible. But the more she turned the words over in her mind, the more confident she was in her decision.

But it seemed so improbable. After all, she had heard from the General and the Tin Man that Ozma gave the Golden Mirror to the Enemy. If he had it, he would surely see them and take the Wonder back for his own.

So why weren't they found out?

It would have been easy, if even one person saw them. Behind her, she could hear Nick Chopper stumbling along the rocks of the Kells. It wasn't a very long walk, but they could not simply cut a straight path across the field of battle. That would have been the most dangerous, and there would have been more eyes to watch their movements. Here, along the side, they might just be able to make it out alive.

Forget about making it to the Enemy's crystal spire, that stood directly in Kumbrica's Pass.

If they even got to its base alive, that would be enough for Dorothy.

* * *

The sky was turning darker, from pale blue to a dark shade of indigo.

Soon the Rainbow would die and they would be wholly beyond help.

Still they fought on.

In between the legs of both friend and foe ran the swift Fox Ruddrix. He could not stop, for the Enemy were still hot on his tail - to borrow a certain expression used by non-Foxes. He did not know where he was running to, or why he thought he would be safe there. It was just the rush of running, the feeling that it made him faster than his enemies, was enough.

A strong blast of air struck down the enemies behind him. Ruddrix dared look behind and saw, to his amazement, that they had been obliterated by the blast.

Before him stood the one who did the blasting, her hands upon her jeweled, starred wand and her chest heaving up and down in exhaustion.

"My lady!" the Fox shouted above the roar of the battle to the Lady Glinda. "How is it that you can do magic?"

"I am almost spent," she returned. "There are too many crystals scattered around Oz. I can no longer feel the magic."

"Perhaps I should take you some place where you can feel the magic easier." he suggested.

"No, stay your place." she said to the Fox. "We're done for as it is." She looked around at the army of Oz's defenders. They were in disarray. It looked as though they were in route. They had to do something.

"Fox, I need your help!" she said to Ruddrix.

"I am at your service, my Lady!"

"Go to every Animal and all the mounted soldiers." she instructed. "Tell them to break off from the battle and then charge again into the Enemy. Tell them they have to break the lines around our foot-soldiers, or all is lost. Go now!"

The Fox nodded his head and shot off like a bolt of lightning, honor-bound to fulfill his task.

It was not looking good at all.

Dan'ai knew they were surrounded. She could hear cries of death from all sides, and the mocking laughter of the enemy Nomes as they burrowed their way through the Ozians. None of the soldiers dared go near the golems, though. The lumbering monstrosities, made of rock and black crystal, burned the ground on which they stood and crushed all beneath their huge feet.

One large one was coming directly towards her company.

"Move!" she shouted.

But her soldiers stood their ground, ready to die to the last man and woman.

A roar split the air as Muugh ran towards the charging golem. Before she could say another word, the Nome plunged into the chest of the golem, boring a hole through it and coming out the other end. The thing fell to the ground, destroyed. Muugh barely had enough time to burrow into the ground and reassemble safely out of the way.

The Hammerheads were attacking now. This seemed to bring Dan'ai back into consciousness. She had been in a haze of indecision since Kloxolk left, unsure as to their fate or what she should do. They were now trapped, with no hope of escape: thanks to her. Even now, hope was failing as the mounted warriors and large Animals started retreating.

But before she could summon then back into the fray, her blood boiled over and fire burned through her veins.

Leading the army of Hammerheads was one with a stupidly smug expression on his face and a sailor's hat perched awkwardly on his head.

This was the one who murdered Button, she remembered.

Taking up her sword, she charged at the thing, uncaring if it shot its head out at her.

Do or die, she would avenge the boy's death at the hand of this creature.

* * *

High above the battlefield, Liir and Elphaba were engaged in the fiercest dog-fight ever in the history of Oz. Fire-balls of green and orange passed across the field, some finding their mark on friend or foe, and others coming dangerously near to destroying the other.

At last, they flew down onto the barren basin that had once been the Restwater. The other warriors were so engrossed in their battle, they did not see the two coming to land on the very battleground.

"You always were a stupid boy." the Witch shouted at him.

"I hate you!" whined Liir, on the verge of tears. "I've always hated you! I want nothing to do with you! Do you hear me? Nothing!"

"Then kill me, you bastard!"

With a cry that broke into a teary whine, Liir rose the broom he had like a spear and charged at the Witch. But as he came close to her, he was suddenly pulled to the ground, as if some unseen force had taken hold of his cloak and thrust him onto the ground. Then, his broom launched out of his hands and flew directly towards the Witch. In a split second, Rain's consciousness came out and took the broom in her hands before it struck her.

"I hate you!" Liir cried out, lying on the ground and weeping like a little baby. "Why won't you die! Why can't I kill you!"

As he was ranting his little baby tantrum, the cloak came unfastened from around his neck and flew back around the neck of its former master.

"I'm done with you, father." she said.

"Father?" he asked. Then, with this realization, he became his usual, vain-confident, angry young self and slowly rose to his feet, shaking like a drunk man. "I'm gonna kill you!"

He ran at her, with a terrifying look of pure hatred and anger that left no doubt in the mind of any who saw him that he was the son of Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West. But Rain was still in control, and she used her magic to push him back to the ground, where he wept again, completely incapable of killing the two things he hated the most.

The Witch, and his daughter.

Just then, the white-haired woman flew down from the sky and picked her brother up onto her broom. The two then shot off into the western sky.

"Come back here, you little brat!" the Witch shouted after them. She gripped onto her familiar old broom and, in recognition of its old master, shot off into the sky at her unspoken wish.

Much better than the one she had been using before. Though she did wish that she could make her old broom turn into a twig like the other one, it would make it easier to conceal in tight situations.

Not that it mattered any, she reminded herself. This battle was big enough that she could find someway to die, even if she had to throw herself into the thick of it.

Her only reason for joining the fight.

"Master!" Liir shouted victoriously. "We have her!"

"Leggo o'me, you big bully!" the girl protested. "What happ'ned to yer manners?"

"Quiet, b*tch!" Liir growled, striking her hard on the face. "Your self-righteous pity will get you nowhere with me."

Liir then threw his catch before the feet of his master. Ikol, who had been observing the battle from the giant crystal spire that sat astride Kumbrica's Pass, looked down upon the little girl before him. He then turned his red, glowing eyes on Liir.

"Pushing little girls around, is that all you're good at doing?" An armored hand seized Liir by the throat and lifted him up to his eye-level. "I saw everything that happened on the battlefield. You are weak!" He threw Liir to the other side of the flat, mesa-like crystal top, where he hit the ground with a whiny, pathetically girlish moan.

"If the truth must be told, Master," Nor said, in her usual arrogant tone. "It was I who saw Dorothy and her friend." She then threw the Tin Man before his feet. "If anyone deserves the credit for this capture, it is me."

The Nameless said nothing, but seized Nor by the throat and lifted her up to his eye-level. Having done this, his fist began to constrict around her throat.

"There's...nothing..." she groaned, as her wind-pipe was being crushed, though still maintaining all the arrogance of an proud ne'er-do-well who thinks they've seen it all. "...you can do...to scare...me..."

"Why?" he hissed. "Do you think because you cut yourself that you are now above everyone?" He threw her to the ground beside her brother. "You forget your place. Neither of you are indispensable in my quest." He then turned to his prisoners.

"Hello, emperor." he said first to the Tin Woodsman, then he laughed in mockery. "A petty title for a petty king. Didn't I destroy your castle already?"

"It was very mean of you, sir." Nick said. "It was the prettiest thing in all of Oz!"

"Beauty, it is meaningless," the Nameless said. "As are you." One of his fists opened up and extended out to the Tin Woodsman. Rather than grab him by the throat, a blast of water shot out at the frightened woodsman.

"No!" cried Dorothy. "Stop!"

But it was too late. The blast was strong enough to rust Nick Chopper instantly. He was frozen in place, hands raised in fear with a look of abject terror across his nickel-plated face.

"Hello, princess," Ikol's deep, threatening voice spoke to her. "I see you also have been foolish enough to try and visit me." He did not laugh, but simply turned his back on her with a swish of the Golden Cape that he wore. "But you are meaningless as well." He then turned back to her, gazing at her with his red eyes. She was suddenly shocked to remember exactly where she had seen those eyes before.

"You have returned, Dorothy Gale," he said. "I knew you would come here. The future does not lie. Now you will watch as all of Oz is broken by my hand..." He chuckled. "...with you powerless to do anything about it." His hand raised up and as it did, Dorothy suddenly noticed that the floor around her was growing. Crystal bars were jutting up out of the flat floor, closing her off from what was around her. In a few seconds, a small cell of crystals was made for her. There was nowhere to move, for there was no door or window: just crystals all around.

Then a pair of disembodied, red eyes floated before her.

"There is no hope of escaping, Dorothy," a voice spoke. Though Dorothy saw no mouth, she knew where they came from. "Now watch as your world dies."

The face faded away, and in its place the crystal before her shimmered into an image of the battlefield. Dorothy saw the destruction that Ikol's forces brought upon the people of Oz. Hundreds were dying minute by minute, many of whom Dorothy had known throughout the century and many who were her friends or travel companions.

The prison suddenly became cold and lifeless. All was silent, save for the beating of Dorothy's own heart in her ears. It was pounding like a drum, and it was starting to make her nauseous.

Her heart kept pounding, while all the others were being stopped just before her eyes.

She couldn't even help them in any way, for she was trapped in a crystal cell and the Golden Dagger with her. Daring to hope, she tried to reach for it from out of her dress pocket: but discovered that her hands were encased in crystal just behind her back.

So close and yet so far.

Dorothy suddenly realized that she had been here before. But she had never dared to believe that this sort of thing might actually happen to her. Oz was powerful, Ozma's magic kept it from being discovered and brought peace to all.

But that peace was gone, the magic was broken, and Oz was dying all around her, as sure as she knew that she herself was being eaten away by the cold her crystal prison was generating.

All the best laid plans had failed, hope was gone at last, and there was nothing to do but wait for the inevitable end.

And, as the image of Dorothy did in the Golden Mirror, imprisoned within the Witch's crystal ball, in what seemed like an eternity in the past...

So too did Dorothy truly weep.

* * *

"You have failed me, Liir," Ikol said from the ledge of the crystal spire. "Get out of my sight."

Liir was in tears. The voices were no longer in his head. The master had abandoned him.

As if to make matters worse, fate itself was now against him.

The Witch had flown up after him and was now standing before him. Only Nor was still at his side, protecting him with the crystal broom in her hand.

"Just stay where you are, Auntie-Witch!" Nor said fearfully.

"I have nothing against you, silly girl," the Witch said.

"But I do," Nor returned. "Your selfish desire for that book was more powerful than your love for Fiyero." The Witch looked shocked. "Yes, I know. The Clock of the Time Dragon told me everything. You seduced my father..."

"He came after me..."

"What person in their right mind would love a hideous creature like you!" Nor all but shouted. "You seduced him, and it killed him. Then, burdened by a guilty conscience, you crawled to our doorstep, begging for forgiveness. But you brought only death: you killed Manek and the rest of my family are dead because **_you_** came to the castle! And when you had the chance to save me, you left me to the Wizard...and to your brother!"

The Witch said nothing.

"The Master is right," Nor continued. "Love is worthless, only power. Your brother had power, and he took advantage of me. But no more!" Her knees weakened, as if remembering some great pain. "Now I have the power..." She walked up to the Witch.

"And I will never forgive you."

"I don't want your damn forgiveness!" the Witch lied. "I want to die! I didn't ask for this, to live, to be green, to be hated, to have a son..."

"No!" Liir whined out. "You are **_not_** my mother! My mother is Sarima Tiggular! You are nothing but a wicked old witch! **I HATE YOU!**"

Just then, the screeching of a Roc split the air and the majestic Bird soared overhead. A small figure dropped to the ground, landing upon the flat surface of the crystal.

The figure slowly and clumsily rose to its feet, brandishing a veridium sword.

"Where is she?" Kloxolk shouted, leveling his sword at Liir.

"I don't know who you're talking about, old man!" he snapped back through clenched teeth.

"Don't lie to me! Where is Dorothy?"

"Find her yourself!" Liir shot back.

But Nor was not subdued that easily. Seeing the Witch move towards Liir, she suddenly cried out.

"Master, they're here!"

"Silence!" roared Ikol. With a wave of his hand, Nor fell to the ground, hacking and coughing: her voice was gone.

But the Nameless was now turning toward them. They knew they were doomed even though the giant revenant was still on the other side of the spire.

"You humans are more trouble than you're worth, even as slaves." Ikol rumbled. From out of thin air came a Golden Sword which he swung against them. Kloxolk, who was closest, parried the oncoming blade with the veridium sword. The blade rang with the power of the blow and sprung back. There was a notch in the blade where the Golden Sword struck it, and Kloxolk feared that another blow would shatter his blade.

Ikol was no novice when it came to the sword. He used his advantage to strike again, but despite his crippled appearance, the General was still a skillful warrior and deftly evaded being struck. The towering revenant and the clock-man General began their duel, the larger one dominating with strikes that shattered the ground wherever it struck.

Kloxolk rolled to the right of a vertical slice from Ikol, bringing himself closer to a large pillar of ice that stuck out noticeably from the flat, smooth surface of the spire. Another vertical strike made Kloxolk roll back, where he found him backed up against the crystal, feeling its cold, life-leeching surface upon the flesh of his back.

"Hello?" a muffled voice asked from inside. "Sumbody there?"

The General would have smiled if the situation were not any more serious. He now knew where Dorothy was kept.

This gave him an idea.

He turned toward Ikol, waiting to see his attack. The Nameless rose his sword back for a horizontal swipe that would cleave Kloxolk's head off his shoulders in one sweep.

"Get down!" he shouted at the crystal.

The blade came down.

Kloxolk barely pushed himself out of the way to avoid the shattering of the crystal prison above his head.

From out of the broken prison, Dorothy crawled out and ran toward the frozen Tin Woodsman.

The General got back to his feet, weary and a little light-headed. He was old, after all, and all of the rolling and ducking was hard to do with all his clock-work parts.

"You are weakening, General." Ikol mocked.

Kloxolk waited for Ikol to strike again, rolling away just in time. The Enemy then walked over to the ledge, with one had raised to the sky.

"Behold, your time is at an end!"

The indigo-blue sky was now a dark shade of violet. The Rainbow was almost gone entirely, and with it, their last hope. On the battlefield, Rainbow or no Rainbow, they were losing. Up here, it was folly to think that any of them could defeat this foe: he was invincible.

"I am not yet to my full power, and still I crush your pitiful world easily." Ikol declared.

Just then, a fire-ball struck Ikol upon the armored breast-plate. Though he was undamaged, it was enough to push him back. The empty-faced helmet looked about and saw the one who threw the fire-ball.

"You wish to throw your life away, green one?" he growled.

One hand reeled back before unleashing a tidal wave upon the Witch where she stood. She threw her arms up over her face, and blocks of ice shattered upon the crystal floor all around her, leaving her unharmed. Perhaps it was the spirit of Rain within her, fighting to survive, that tapped into her powers to save her: it was definitely not Elphaba's desire to live.

"Should I kill you first," Ikol mocked as the Witch turned back towards him. "Or let the mother watch as I torture her son to death? It will be much more enjoyable, watching you burn your eyes out with tears...if you actually are capable of love, that is!"

"You said you would give us power!" Liir whined.

Ikol turned towards the tiny, impish Liir, almost forgotten in his exchange with the Witch. "You were the fool to put your trust in me," he spat. "Power: that is reserved for the master, not the slave. Did you really think that I would destroy your entire world and everything in it and spare your life just because you gave poor service to me?"

A flickering green fire-ball shot from Liir's hand and struck Ikol on the breastplate. It did no damage, for the Golden Breastplate made the wearer impervious to all harm.

"You dare use my power against me?" Ikol raged. He drew back his sword and threw it horizontally across to slice Liir in half at the waist.

A cry of shock came from Dorothy's lips, as she covered her face with her little hands.

The Golden Sword fell off from its mark, but a dark stain of blood still covered the shining blade.

A few feet away from Liir lay the green witch. She was cut in two at the waist, after having thrown herself in the way of the blade to save the person who hated her.

The last good deed of the Wicked Witch of the West.

The Witch said nothing, for her diaphragm was severed and she could not breathe, much less speak. She choked to death on her own blood, a look of horror stretched across her green face.

Dorothy crawled over to the severed body. It was so disgusting: not the green creature, but the act that killed her. She saw now what it really meant to kill somebody. Before, she had killed wicked witches in Oz indiscriminately, with no thought for what they had to suffer through while they died. Now she saw just what it was, how painful it was.

Then a few muffled words from outside of her prison cell came back into her memory.

"She gave her life for you, Liir!" she shouted at him.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Liir said, shaking his head in denial. "It's not true, it just isn't! I refuse to believe it! She always treated me like garbage, like a slave! There's no way she would save me! It's not true, I tell ya! **IT'S NOT TRUE!**"

"Are you seriously denyin' what's plain fer all to see?"

"You're lying!" Liir cried, his voice breaking into 'crocodile' tears of immature whining. "Sticking up for that witch. I hate you, Dorothy. I hate you **ALL!**"

Liir crawled away, like some kind of whipped dog. Dorothy was starting to walk after him, when suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks. She could move her arms, turn her head, twiddle her fingers, even bend her knees.

But her feet would not move.

The shoes on her feet were glowing ruby red, but not the same as before. Formerly, when the shoes did their magic, they would glow red all around the shoes themselves. Here the shine was coming from another direction, only reflecting off the shoes. She found that she could turn herself in that direction, and saw that the shine grew brighter, as if leading her somewhere else.

Directly towards Ikol.

The General, seizing his opportunity, attacked an unarmed Ikol with his sword. But even without the Golden Sword, the Nameless was not defeated so easily. His armored gloves could deflect sword blows as easily as his sword could, though it was not powerful enough to break Kloxolk's sword.

Kloxolk made a swing with his sword, and Ikol blocked it with both of his wrists, using the crystals to block the blow. With ease, he pushed his arms apart and sent the General flying. The Golden Helm'd red eyes then turned to a new comer walking up humbly from left hand of the Nameless.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you!" he raged, using his power to throw Dorothy back. "You cannot kill me, for I am immortal." He reached out with his hand, and the Golden Sword flew from where it stood and came to rest in the hands of its master once again.

"But you aren't."

It all happened so fast.

The Golden Cloak made Ikol move faster than the wind, and even if he did not have it, few things alive could have moved out of the way from his furious charge.

He leveled the Golden Sword parallel to the ground, like a lance, and charged forward, with the obvious intent to run Dorothy Gale through, to end her little life.

The hand of doom raised back, drawing the sword far back, gaining momentum as it prepared for the final strike.

Dorothy could do nothing but watch as the great, golden-black blur flew towards her and prepared to end her life.

In a single breath, the sword moved down in one graceful swoop.

She closed her eyes. It would all be over soon.

The blow seemed to take forever to pierce the skin. Dorothy wondered if this was how death was, just moments of dullness before it all faded to black.

She opened her eyes. She could still see, there was no white light at the end of the tunnel. The only darkness came from the sky.

The Rainbow had died.

Looking at herself, she found a very large thing was slumped against her. She could smell the musty, sweaty form of a man lying on top of her. Something was poking her in the gut.

She pushed the body off, but then gasped when she saw who it was she had just thrown off herself so unceremoniously.

It was a male, indeed, dressed in the attire of a general. In his chest there stood the Golden Sword, going all the way through and terminating as a small point from out of his back. There was no mistaking, however, the scraggly, graying hair, or the face, lined with ages of wear and tear. There could be no mistaking for the broken sword lying at his side, or the black leather belt, with the silver buckle broken at the E-within-the-V emblem.

This was Evemar Kloxolk.

Tears came to Dorothy's eyes. She couldn't understand why this was happening. Why did the General have to go? He was the strongest man she had ever known: fully capable of fighting for and defending himself and others without anyone else's help. So why did he have to die?

He was not dead, she felt. Thank goodness! His hands were still warm. She rolled him over on his back and crawled over to his side so she could see his face.

"Gen'ral, why?" she sobbed. "Why did you do this?"

"Don't cry, Dorothy," the General groaned. "You're still alive: that's all that matters."

"Don't leave me, Gen'ral. We can still save ya! We'll beat this 'ere bad guy and you'll be right as rain in no time."

"No, don't." he sighed. "This is what I want. I am prepared for death. I have no regrets, no fears...no more despair..."

The General's face relaxed into a smile.

Then, all was silent.

Suddenly, a hand seized Dorothy from behind. She was lifted up into the air, and found herself staring Ikol directly in the eyes. Those two red holes floating in the darkness of his helmet were worse than nothing at all. For if there were just darkness, she knew that oblivion was all there was.

But here, she could tell that even in oblivion, she was always under his gaze.

"There's no one left to die for you, little girl," Ikol said. The Golden Sword appeared in his hand again.

Dorothy felt the iron grip of Ikol's hand upon her neck, the stillness of the dead wind blowing her pig-tails about. Far below, she could hear the sounds of defeat from the Army below. It must be defeat, for there were cries of triumph. Though she knew not that Ikol's armies could cry in triumph, it seemed illogical that the Ozian defenders would be winning.

There was no hope for them.

The cold of death was already closing in on her, she could feel it all about. But on her left thigh, she felt even greater cold.

Just then, a wild thought came into her head.

They were all so silly for not thinking of this first.

That was the reason they went back to Earth.

Her little hand reached down into the pocket of her dress, and her fingers closed around a diamond-encrusted hilt.

But could she do it? Could she do what everyone else had failed to do?

She was so small, she suddenly thought. She had never...no, she had. She had killed witches before, some in full mindfulness of what she was doing. Like it or not, killing was easy for Dorothy to do.

She smiled. It all seemed to silly: why had Ikol not noticed this before? Even after he had the Mirror, why did he not realize that someone could do this?

Drawing it back in her little hand, Dorothy then thrust forward as hard as she could.

The Golden Dagger was buried into the Golden Breastplate.

"What?" Ikol bellowed. "How can this be?"

His free hand threw Dorothy off the crystal spire.

Her smile turned to surprise.

So there would be no living in the Oz after this catastrophe.

But the smile came back. She knew that, even if she died, Oz would be safe.

"May you live forever, Ozma." she wished, as she fell through the air.

With Ozma's power still negated by the presence of the crystals, now scattered all throughout Oz.

The fall would surely kill her.

* * *

**(Yes! I've killed off major characters! I had this planned since before I published the story on here, not just to get your attention [nothing else has been working, so why even bother?] I _really_ hated how Nor turned out in A Lion Among Men: all high-and-mighty and thinking she's above everybody, which is the reason I made her a villain.)**

**(08.17.11 update - I added a little exchange between Elphaba and Ikol. PLEASE tell me how you liked Ikol as a villain! Your feed-back will be most helpful for his prequel story _Of Saints and Sinners_, which will be coming soon [its part of a different Wicked-series, but I still consider him part of the 'official' WMV1990 Wicked _fanon_.)  
**


	27. The Aftermath

**(But wait, the story is not over yet! Keep reading! We see the timely cameo-arrival of an Oz-series character, who has a purpose to fulfill.)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Six - The Aftermath**

A great, deafening explosion shook throughout the lower stratosphere of Oz.

The Nameless Enemy was shattered, the form it held broken by the power of the Golden Dagger. All the crystals vanished from off its body and disintegrated into dust. The force of the explosion sent some of the larger of the Wonders flying far away from the surface of the crystal spire. A rushing of wind followed...

And then all was silent.

In the Restwater basin, Dan'ai was pushed down to the ground. All hope was gone with the cavalry, and just above her, blotting out the darkened sky was the Hammerhead, grinning stupidly down at her, with Button's hat atop its head in a mocking gesture and its foot pressing down on her breastplate.

She would die at the hand of the one who killed poor Button.

Then the explosion.

A roar of the bugles and the lines of the enemy broke as the cavalry broke into them. All of Ikol's slaves fled, having suddenly lost the voice of command in their minds. Now they had nothing more to do but run for their lives.

But one Hammerhead would not leave the battlefield.

It turned its ugly head up to see the charging Ozian cavalry.

Dan'ai seized her opportunity and took hold of her sword. In one deft thrust, she pushed the blade of her sword into the Hammerhead's neck.

As her foe fell dead, she slowly got to her feet and picked the hat off its head. Looking around, she saw the tide of the battle turning as the cavalry routed the enemy. At their head was the Sawhorse, on whose back was none other than the one who, a few hours ago, had been such a ninny that she would rather see her people die than fight with them.

Ozma.

All throughout Oz there was silence. Ikol's army was scattered, and there was almost nothing left of the Ozian army. The Blue Division was broken, and Snipp was killed in action. The Red and Yellow Divisions were barely intact, but the Purple Division had turned tails and retreated back to Gilikin.

Animals of all shapes and sizes littered the battlefield, from both sides as well. Ruddrix had died in battle, but Muugh carried his body to Glinda, a look of sadness across his rocky face. Kirriku was still alive, but Khyorke had one of his antlers broken and a leg shattered. They also stood at her side.

She suddenly looked up to the sky, holding out her hand to a small speck flying through the sky. A flash of white light struck the speck and slowly descended. Two young girls appeared where the flash descended. One was a young girl, almost Dorothy's age. She had red lips, yellow hair, green eyes, an orange belt, purple toe-nails, indigo fingernails and a robe of pale blue. In her arms was Dorothy.

They noticed that the Rainbow's daughter had glowing blue-white tears streaming down her face.

"I couldn't save your father, Polly." Glinda said sadly.

Pollychrome looked down at Dorothy, planting a kiss on her forehead. The young princess slowly woke up, and smiled, seeing her friend just above her face.

"Is it over?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes," the Rainbow's daughter whispered. "But I can't stay for long." She stood up, placing Dorothy on her feet next to her.

"What do you mean?"

"I have to go," Polly pointed to the sky. "It's the only way to save Oz."

"You're going to be the Rainbow, Polly?" Dorothy asked.

The blond nodded her head, then stood back a little.

"Goodbye, Dorothy Gale."

The princess waved her hand, smiling through tears.

A flash of multi-colored light shone where Pollychrome once stood, which now arched up into the dark sky. Once again, there was a Rainbow in Oz, opening a gateway to the fairy worlds to ensure it would be safe from now on.

Dorothy waved at the Rainbow, wishing that she could see her friend one last time. She then realized that there was something warm and metallic in her hand.

Looking, she saw that a Golden Ring sat in her hand.

No, it was THE Golden Ring.

In her hand was one of the Golden Wonders.

How did it get there, she asked herself. Maybe it was on the Enemy's hand all the time, and it fell off with her when she killed him.

"The Golden Ring?" a voice asked over her shoulder. Turning back, she saw Glinda standing behind her shoulder.

"Please!" another voice, one which had heard Glinda's statement, called out. Dorothy saw the Nome carrying the Fox, dead in his arms. "Do something."

Dorothy placed the ring on the little Fox's body. There was a flash of golden light, and life returned once again into the body of the Fox.

"You must come with me, Dorothy." Glinda said. Dorothy nodded and reached out to take Glinda's hand. The sorceress shook her head no, and pointed instead to the shoes on Dorothy's feet.

_Ah_, she thought. _I still have the shoes._

Dorothy clicked her heels three times and then wished: "I want to be on the top of the crystal spire in the south-western pass."

The shoes glowed bright red, and suddenly she found herself back on the top of the crystal spire. A tarnished breastplate with the Golden Dagger sticking out of it was all that was left of the Nameless Enemy. To one side she saw the body of the General, and what was left of the old witch. A glissando of twinkles from behind told Dorothy that Glinda had appeared in a haze of bubbles behind her.

But she was busy thinking. If she remembered correctly, this Ring would bring three people back to life. And she had already saved one, so she had only two more uses.

Which should she save first? The General, or the Witch.

The words of the General came back into her mind. "This is what I want. I am prepared for death."

The General wanted to die, just like the Witch did. Was he just as insane? No, she recalled. He did not seek death until it came to him: he was ready for death, but not seeking it. The Witch was different.

But then she remembered Rain. Her 'soul' was still trapped inside the Witch's body. What happened to it? Was it still there? Shouldn't she do something to save her?

Dorothy came to a conclusion. She was responsible for the Witch's death the first time, it was her duty to bring her back. But if she didn't want to go back, wouldn't that be more harm than good?

_No,_ she said. _Rain_ needed_ to be saved_.

She put the Ring over the broken body of the Witch, and waited as it glowed a soft shade of gold, but did not flash as it had with the Fox. Nothing happened. The two pieces of the body were not moving, not living.

"Why?" she begged aloud, not really sure to who she was speaking. "Why won't you come back?"

"Maybe she doesn't want to return," Glinda suggested.

But Dorothy didn't want to believe it. Something else had awoken in her mind: a thought she did not know had even existed before. She did not believe that anyone would have wanted to die, no one was that messed up.

Not even the Witch.

She dared to hope that there was some hope for the Witch.

So she kept her hand over the two halves of the Witch's body, trying hard to will her back to life.

* * *

**(This chapter is a little short, but it sets the pace for the next one...which you need to see. It's the great philosophication that I promised afore-hand)**


	28. Going Back

**(AN: Here I find myself once again...disappointed. I had spent years battling my fandom of Wicked and my hatred for what the book Elphaba stood for - the one I hold to be _canon_ Elphaba: her indecision, her doubt, her inaction, her similarities to myself...everything I had against her was to come out in this chapter...and I feel like I let myself down. This doesn't feel as right as it did when I discoursed about it in my head, reasoning this chapter over and over before. I hope this streak of in-articulation of thought-to-paper ideas ends when this story is done. If this philosophical section seems a little scatter-brained, it is because it is from my head, which is also pretty scattered itself. Enjoy, though)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven - Going Back**

The green woman awoke in a great fog. She opened her mouth to breathe, but found that she could not: nor was there need to breathe. Looking down at her body, she saw that there was nothing left of the injury that took her life. Aside from not being able to breathe, she seemed every bit like she did before.

Her skin was still green.

And she was not clothed.

It didn't seem to matter, however. There was nobody else here in this fog, so it wasn't as if she needed them.

Or so she felt at first.

The fog seemed to lessen, and the green woman saw the sky above her. But it was empty: no clouds, no sun and no moon. The stars shone above her head in all of their glory. But beneath her feet stretched an endless, black abyss that seemed ready to swallow anything and everything.

She gasped.

But she saw that she was not falling.

Not yet, at least.

She suddenly became aware that she was not alone.

"Where am I?" she asked, though she could not see anything else there.

"In between." a voice said.

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked.

"We're not really anywhere, actually." the voice said. It was a man's voice. The green woman tried to cover herself, but the fog settled around her form.

The voice took form. It was an old man, with a crooked nose and long, white hair and beard. He also was swathed in fog.

"That's illogical dribble," she shot back. "I expected a much more scientific answer from someone like you."

"Science is irrelevant here," the old man said. "I was a headmaster at Shiz once. Now, I am just waiting here."

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," the old man said. "But when I see it, I will know."

The green woman laughed the same kind of cackling, mocking laugh that she used in life.

"Something amuse you, lady?" the old man asked.

"Just the irony," she said. "People say that all of life's answers are given once we die: a kind of existential enlightenment. It's funny that you've actually become stupid rather than enlightened."

"Why do you say so?"

"Well, it IS stupid to speak the nonsensical dribble you're spouting. After all, empiricism is the only trust-worthy..."

The old man held up a hand.

"Empiricism means nothing here. This place is a temporary waiting place."

"Is this supposed to be heaven?" she asked mockingly.

"No, but you could go there from here." he said.

She scoffed. "I don't believe this s..."

"This place exists beyond belief," the old man said. "You, who believes in nothing, are here. That is proof enough that this place transcends whatever beliefs you may have had in life."

"You're wrong." she returned. "I don't have to believe this, because it's not real."

"What is real, then?" he asked. "You are dead in life: if that is what you consider real, then you are meaningless out there. You got what you wanted."

"No, I'm still alive." Tears started to flow down her face, but no burning sensation followed. She gasped in shock.

"What the hell have you done to me? Why am I crying? What's wrong with me?"

"Whatever you may have had in life does not exist here." he answered.

She said nothing, but tried to wipe her eyes dry with her hands. She realized once again that the tears did not harm her, so she was able to clean her face off with no injury.

"If this is the afterlife, where is everybody else?" she asked. "Shouldn't there be everyone who has ever died here?"

"This isn't the afterlife. This is a crossroads of sorts." The old man looked here and there, though there was nothing to be seen. "If one wished, they could return or pass on to whatever awaits."

"So then I could just waltz into Heaven if I wanted?" the green woman asked, her tone of voice dripping with heavy sarcasm.

"Well, yes...and no."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? It's either yes or no, it can't be both ways!"

"Well, yes you could go that way if you wished. But that is no guarantee they would let you in."

"What would happen if they reject you?"

The old man pointed to the abyss below her. One look and the green woman's face changed from sarcastic apathy to thinly veiled fear.

"Are you telling me the Unnamed God would keep me out of Heaven just because I don't believe in Him?" She scoffed. "I knew He wasn't worth my worship."

"It would be nothing you don't deserve."

"I don't believe in the Unnamed God, or Lurline or any of those cock-n-bull fairy tales. I should be dead!"

"You ask too much," the old man said. "Do you really need to live through life knowing everything?"

"Knowledge is power, ignorance is death."

"But the more you know, the more you're responsible for."

"I don't believe that nonsense."

"And that is why you belong down there: you've been very evil, you know."

"Evil is a matter of perspective: a name naive people make up to vilify the aspects of their own mind they're too afraid to accept."

"You sound more like him every day."

"Damn you! I am NOTHING like him! **NOTHING!**" She obviously knew about whom he was speaking.

"But you are. All the years you lived, all you have ever thought about was your own selfish ends."

"That's a lie! I helped the Animals, I cared for Nessa, I...I..."

"It's not a good habit to lie to yourself, you know. It tends to lead to insanity."

"If I'm insane, its because the world made me so! I wasn't doing anything, I just reacted to the evils of the world."

"That's it!" the old man rose from where he said. "You weren't doing anything. You never did anything in your whole life."

"Liar! I-I helped the Animals, my work with Dr. Dillamond..."

"Which lead to nothing. Furthermore, you gave up that work to focus on your little vendetta against Madam Morrible, and later to gain the forgiveness of Sarima Tiggular. And when you returned, your only focus was on killing yourself. Do you not see how your sole motivation was on self?"

The green woman stumbled through her words, unable to articulate an answer. She screamed in anger.

"How dare you! I am not selfish! It's my fault Fiyero died, I had to make amends!"

"Which you didn't. Please, be honest with yourself, Elphaba Thropp." The green woman twitched at hearing her true name being spoken. "He was a grown man, who chose to pursue you according to his own wishes. It was your fault for leading him on and violating his marriage. But there, and only there, lies your fault. His death was not of your making, nor was it your fault. You told him to leave, but he did not."

"I shouldn't have let him stay at all. I killed off the only good thing in my life!"

"Did you?"

The fog started to clear up, and she saw a cat walking up to the Emerald Palace. The guards rushed to keep him off, but the cat said something that made them move. So it was a Cat. But that Cat was strangely familiar. It came to the throne of the Wizard, where an old woman met him. He told her his story, and she sent the Gale Force out to do their duty.

"You were betrayed. His death was not your fault."

"I still felt guilty."

"For something you had no control over? Then you went everywhere, longing to gain forgiveness. But you could never find it...because you will not forgive yourself."

At this, the green woman exploded into rage.

"Forgive! That is for the sheep who blindly follow their Unnamed God into oblivion!"

"You did not believe, yet you wanted forgiveness."

"I don't have to believe in some all-powerful, nameless fairy-god up in the sky to be forgiven!"

"Still you do not believe?"

The green woman's previous outbursts were nothing compared to this.

"**HOW DARE YOU!** How can I believe in something that brings only pain and suffering? My father tortured me, used my condition to bring people to the Unnamed God. I was nothing to him, just a tool for his ministry! How can I believe in a God who permitted such injustice to occur? I can't, I just can't!"

She erupted into tears again.

"I'd rather burn forever in hell than believe in someone who does not exist. It is illogical. If disbelief damns me to hell, or to that abyss..." She cast a fearful glance below her feet. "...your Unnamed God is not worthy of my worship."

"Listen to yourself!" the old man shouted. "Even now you are defiant! Your only thought is to yourself. Think of the people you have hurt because of your behavior. Your place was at your sister's side, yet you abandoned her to fight your own personal battle against Madam Morrible. And instead of prevailing, you became her slave all the more! You don't want to believe, because you say that it would legalize what your father did to you." The old man sat down again, a little more calm than before.

"Well, I met the man you call 'father'. Frexspar Thropp."

"How?" she asked. "He died a hundred years ago."

"Time means nothing here." the old man simply replied. "I saw him pace this very place, spouting off justifications for everything he did in life, showing how it was all 'for the greater good' and done 'in the name of the Unnamed God.' And when he chose to move on, he did not like the verdict that was passed on his soul. Now he's gone, in there." He pointed to the abyss.

"What your father did was not in accordance to the will of the Unnamed God. And it is _**you**_ who are blind for believing such as plain fact without seeking out the truth."

"No." she said, sobbing again.

"You ran from your responsibilities, choosing rather to live an empty, meaningless life. Your only compulsion was towards your own ends: therein you are both coward and centered only on your self."

"No!" she protested. "I am not a coward!"

"Even now, your only thought is selfish. You threw away the life given you, and took an innocent life before its time had come. You have to go back."

"No!" she whined, pounding a green fist impotently on the invisible floor on which she now curled up into a green ball. "I just want to die! I'm sick of life, I just want my way! Is that too much to ask?"

"You turned deaf ears to the lives of Animals all across Oz, many of whom died before their time. You deserve the abyss."

"Kill me, then! You made me this way, you gave me this life of torment, I just want out of it! You're not worth worshiping if you're going to condemn me for not worshiping you, d'you hear me? **I HATE YOU!**"

The witch broke off into sobs and tears: long, painful, agonizing wails of defeat. Everything she had built her world of disbelief upon had crumbled to dust, and now there was nothing left but to shake her fist in the face of the one she would rather die than believe in.

After an eternity, it seemed, of screaming and weeping and clawing at her body, the green woman collapsed to the invisible floor, rasping with lungs that could not breathe.

"You know," the old man said. "You can keep shouting all you want, but I'm not the Unnamed God. I'm not lying, I'm just a Gilikin-man, who was the head-master of Shiz before your return. Your son killed me for knowledge in this world, but here..." He indicated to this non-being about them. "...I know much more than I ever could have imagined."

There was silence.

"Your father was wrong. The heart of the law of the Unnamed God is love, not hate. Every action done in the name of any deity that is motivated by hate is a grievous error, and should not be considered as truth. You do not know the whole truth, and therefore you must be sent back."

"I don't want to go back." she moaned.

"Your very presence proves that you have a soul, dear." the old man said. "That was trapped in the hat you wore, and therefore you never truly died when the Earth-girl melted you. When your grand-daughter put the hat upon her head, she opened the door for your return. But you spat on a second chance..." The old man was silent.

At this, a white light shone. The green woman looked up and was surprised to see a figure dressed in white, with hair so bright yellow it looked white. A pair of emerald eyes, filled with love, that the green woman thought she would never see again, appeared out of the light.

"You..." she said. "You're dead?"

"I won't be here for long." Locasta said. "I knew you had a soul."

"I don't want this, Leyen." the green woman said. "I never wanted this, I just wanted to die and be done with this world."

"Elphaba," the Good Witch of the South said. "For all that you have done, you deserve the abyss." She put her hand on her friend's green shoulder.

"And I forgive you."

The witch cried again. Everything seemed to have been put into place with that one phrase from her friend.

"Now you have to go back, my old friend." the Good Witch said. "You have to let your grand-daughter live. Make sure you save your sister, she cannot pass on yet." Leyen then leaned in and gave the green witch a warm hug.

"May Heway be with you." she said with that huge smile of hers.

A flash of golden light blotted out all the fog and everything faded to white.

* * *

**(Here you go, LeiaEmberblaze. Your character's big appearance. Leyen Rhoda, aka. Locasta the Good Witch of the South, is her character and not mine.)**

**[SPOILER ALERTS FOLLOW! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ WICKED THE BOOK!]  
**

**(Also, I honestly do see Elphaba as being a tragic, Hamlet-style anti-hero. She was betrayed by the Animals she was trying to help [although I'm thinking she was _really_ trying to kill Madam Morrible in the book to break the curse she put on her], and she felt guilty for Fiyero's death when it was her cat's fault [he was a Cat masquerading as a cat - a literal capo of the Animal Rights movement, as there were capos in the concentration camps in Nazi Germany], so she goes out trying to get forgiveness for something she didn't do because she has a guilty conscience...yet she's not willing to forgive Dorothy. How can she expect to be forgiven if she refuses to forgive? Besides, in the book, she's not as active for the cause of Animal Rights as in the musical - her only motivation is herself. She wanted the shoes because she wasn't willing to let grudges die and still hated her father for loving Nessarose more than her. So yes, I do see her as a villain.)**

**(Unfortunately, I haven't reconciled myself with her yet. -sad face-. Like I said, this story has gone downhill a LOT. I apologize)**


	29. An Hour Alone

**(AN: This failed epic is almost done. I just have to wrap up a few things and then its gone for good. In case you were wondering, I decided to continue it since I don't like leaving projects unfinished. I hope you enjoy this. There was originally going to be a LOT of dialogue between Glinda and [deleted to avoid spoiler alerts] as a set-up for the next story, but I got rid of it because I don't know the full story since _Out of Oz_ hasn't been published. If I get to reading it, I might post the full dialogue one day. For now, enjoy the rest of this epic failure)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight - An Hour Alone**

The Ring began to glow with a strong golden light.

But it was not as it was with the Fox. The shine seemed to remain, becoming more and more brilliant as each moment passed. It's light slowly permeated around the two pieces of the Witch's body, engulfing them with an illumination beyond description.

After a moment that lasted a life-time, the light became so bright none could look at it.

Then came the flash.

The light slowly faded, and a new light took its place.

From high above in the sky, the clouds of darkness began to part and the sun shone through upon the broken land of Oz.

And upon its broken emerald daughter.

But something was different.

As Dorothy opened her eyes, she saw that there were still two forms lying where the Witch had died. But instead of two halves of the same, broken whole, they were two whole beings.

Both of them clad in black robes.

Both of them green.

"What jus' happen'd?" Dorothy asked, awe-struck.

"You saved Oz." the voice of Glinda spoke from behind her. The little girl turned to the sorceress: her black cloak was cast off, and she was clad as she usually had been. The only difference was the expression of sadness upon her face.

"Glinda," Dorothy sighed. "I need a grand 'splainin' from you."

"Indeed you do," the Sorceress said. "Where should I begin?"

"Why d'you run out on us?"

"I did not abandon you," Glinda said, shaking her head. "I received a message that the Good Witch of...well, the South, was in danger."

"But I thought YOU were from th' South." Dorothy mused aloud.

"No," Glinda said. "No, I'm from Gilikin. I am the Good Witch, or sorceress, if you prefer, of the North. My friend, dear to me as a sister, Locasta the Good Witch of the South, spoke with me just after you arrived in Oz the first time. She told me she had a mission of dire importance in Gilikin, and that I was to take over her ruler-ship over Quadling in her absence.

"Little did I expect that she would be gone for over a hundred years. She stopped by at Ozma's birthday, every once in a while, but never stayed for too long, just enough to tell me of the minor details of her mission."

"What was her mission?" Dorothy asked. "I mean, what could possibly keep someone busy for a hundred years?"

"She learned of the Golden Wonders," Glinda answered. "There were certain people in Oz who would benefit from the Wonders if they got their hands on them, so Locasta left Quadling with one dear to her heart in search of the Wonders. I thought she was lost, until I received the message she sent me.

"It said she was in trouble, that the Wonders had been found. I went to Gilikin, but was too late to save her." Glinda wiped away a single, shinning blue-white tear from her eye. "But the Book of Records had been stolen, and I couldn't keep watch over all of Oz from my palace. So I had to be on the run, trying to keep everything safe until..."

"Until what?"

"Until I found Rain. Her power was sufficient to help you in your time, and she helped me after my own...wrong choices, almost doomed us. Once the crystals started appearing over Oz, I had to depart for a time to save my power for the battle. I am afraid that I waited too long: too many have died this day."

The good sorceress knelt down at Dorothy's side.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked.

The little girl threw her arms around Glinda's neck.

"Of course I forgive ya, Glinda." she replied.

One of the two figures that lay upon the ground started to stir. Glinda stood up and helped this figure to her feet.

"You're free, Rain." she said. The young green woman embraced the good sorceress and then Glinda turned to Dorothy.

"Please take Rain off the spire. I will cast a spell to allow you to float to the Emerald City safely."

"What? No, I wanna..."

"Please, let me have at least an hour alone with..." She turned to the other figure on the ground. It was stirring. It looked more or less identical to the witch, save that several strands of hair were turning gray.

Glinda sighed.

"...with Elphaba." She turned back to Dorothy and Rain. "Now, please, leave."

"But what about Gen'ral Kloxolk?"

"He was ready for death," Glinda said. "The Ring will do him no good now. Go."

She held out her open palm, and Dorothy and Rain were encapsulated in an opaque bubble that floated upon the now flowing wind down to the Emerald City.

When the bubble settled down at the city gates, it summarily popped and allowed Dorothy and Rain to walk again. Dorothy saw the remnants of the army assembled there, many of them looking either wounded or half-dead. The Wizard was nursing a lump on his head and Aidan the Quadling had bruises and cuts across her whole body. Ozma had been hit on the shoulder, which she favored as if it had been cut off, and the Lion had the most serious wounds. Only Toto and the Scarecrow seemed to have escaped any harm at all.

"Where's the Tin Man?" asked the Scarecrow.

The expression on Dorothy's face suddenly turned to shock. She recalled how the Tin Woodsman had been instantly rusted solid by the Enemy (was it safe to say his name now that he was gone?). She didn't know how he could be saved.

"I don't know," she responded truthfully. She then turned to her friend, who dismounted the Sawhorse, placed the veridium sword in the ground and ran to embrace her little friend.

"Oh, Dorothy!" Ozma exclaimed, as she held Dorothy in her arms. "We won! Glinda's arrival helped us turn the enemy back. But what happened to you? I heard that someone saw you near Kumbrica's Pass."

Dorothy was unwilling to say it at first, still fearing the repercussions it might have.

"I...I killed him." she said at last.

Ozma laughed with joy and picked Dorothy up off her feet into a hearty, warm embrace. "Dorothy, you just saved all of Oz! How can we ever repay you!"

"Never talk about it again," the little girl said. "I don't like bein' called a murderer."

Ozma nodded, but was too happy to say anything else. She then regaled Dorothy with all that happened on the field of battle. When Dorothy told her that General Kloxolk was dead, Ozma asked for everyone's attention.

"Let us have a moment of silence for the General who saved Oz."

All were silent as instructed.

The hour was spent, and a large, glistening bubble flew down from the crystal and settled down just before the gates of the Emerald City.

* * *

**([spoiler alert!] I feel like I'm getting repetitive with the details of Locasta's mission. Here's the down-low. Since this story is based on Wicked the Book rather than Wicked the Musical, Locasta doesn't die as she did in _Good Witch of the South_. Obviously, since Madam Morrible was dead before Elphaba died, there would be no such "Finale" scene. So I instead had her leave Quadling in search of the Golden Wonders, since they were a threat large enough to destroy all of Oz, but left Glinda in charge of Quadling while she went north in search of them [with Kucharo with her, obviously]. This takes up over a hundred years [and Ozma's arrival means that Leyen doesn't age, nor does Kucharo], but then she is killed...by Liir. I hope that clears up everything)**

**(Did you like the twist I had? Rather than kill off one or the other, I bring back _both_ of them! As I'm sure I've said before, Rain represents the good, wholesome "musical" qualities of the character, while Elphaba represents the darker, selfish and empirical "book" character...though she has changed somewhat. Not overly, just enough for it to matter. Just a little bit more then the story ends.)**


	30. Locasta's Last Words

**(AN: Leave it to me to find a way to have someone who is dead appear from beyond the grave. Once again, this version of Locasta is based on LeiaEmberblaze's character from _Good Witch of the South_. Enjoy)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Nine - Locasta's Last Words**

When the bubble dissipated, there were two figures standing there. One, obviously, was Glinda, the caster of the bubble. The other was Nick Chopper, fully functional and oiled up again. The Scarecrow, Lion and Dorothy all but tackled their galvanized friend to the ground in joy at seeing him alive and moving again. As for Nick Chopper himself, he was hard-pressed to keep his eyes from shedding deadly tears upon his finish.

"But, how d'you get un-rusted?"

"Glinda," replied the Tin Man with glee. "She saved me with her magic. It was so beautiful!"

They turned to thank Glinda, but the sorceress held up her hand in protest. She turned then to Rain.

"What do you remember?" she asked.

"Everything," the green girl said. "At least, everything that happened while the Wi...while Elphaba was in control of my body."

"Excuse me?" Boq, who had his head bandaged up. Glinda let out an involuntary shiver as the little Munchkin approached her. "The Restwater is dried up. What will become of Munchkinland...or the rest of Oz, without our water?"

Glinda looked up to the sky, and held one hand aloft.

A sudden rushing of the winds could be heard, and suddenly rain-clouds appeared over Restwater basin. They let loose their torrents, and in no time the great lake was filled with water once again.

"I am very disappointed in you, Ozma." Glinda said at last, turning to the girl-ruler. "I hoped you would take my instructions to heart, but you ignored everything I said."

"I didn't think it was possible that so much bad could happen." Ozma replied in her own defense.

"This is war," Glinda said sorrowfully. "Very bad things happen, the innocent are killed, nothing ever remains the same and sacrifices are made that we wish could have been otherwise."

"Sacrifices?" Dorothy asked.

"Your friend, Pollychrome, will never return to Oz again."

"Why not?" Dorothy asked, her voice turning to tears. "What's happen'd to her?"

"The Nameless destroyed her father," Glinda said. "To ensure that Oz will always be safe, she became the Rainbow. She cannot return, but her sacrifice has made Oz safe...for the present."

She then turned to Rain.

"Do you still have it?"

"It?" The green girl suddenly realized what Glinda meant. Excusing herself, she ran off into the City.

"What's she goin' fer?" Dorothy asked.

"The bag you found in the other world," Glinda said. "Locasta had a friend send it there for safe-keeping...and to arm one for the task ahead."

"You mean there's more?"

"There is always more, young Dorothy." Glinda replied. "But there is a new task on the horizon, and a few last words."

She then turned to the others.

"Oz will never be the same. But if we work together, recognizing the responsibility each of us have to our beloved Oz, and to each other, we can build a better world."

They nodded or cheered according to their fashion. After a few minutes, Rain returned with the bag in hand. Glinda smiled and asked for the bag to be placed out before her. This the green girl did, and then stepped back. Glinda reached into the bag and pulled out a slender, narrow vase with a lid.

"This is a message-urn," she said. "It is a form of magical communication...and Locasta's last words."

She told them to be silent, and then placed the urn on the ground. She then gently tipped the lid off, and took a step back. A sudden gust of white smoke billowed out of the small jar, too much for a thing that tiny to ever hold.

The smoke slowly started to take shape. The shape was about a little taller than Glinda, robed in white, and had hair so blond it almost looked white as well. Two emerald green eyes peered out of the shape. Glinda, Chistery and Muugh either knelt down or gasped in awe at the figure.

"If you're reading this message," Leyen's image said. "Then I assume that I am dead. I regret that I have not been able to actively engage in defending Oz over the last century. I discovered that someone was looking for the Golden Wonders, and so went on a long voyage to discover their whereabouts and defend Oz.

"I left this bag of supplies with someone in the other world. They will lead you to my friend, the one they called the Wicked Witch of the East. She was misguided, and I fear that her soul is still trapped on your side. I leave this world with the hope to walk in Heway's presence, with Nessarose and all my friends at my side...and no regrets."

The image faded in the new morning light.

* * *

**(This chapter is ridiculously short, but it is important, to a degree. I know I've left more loose ends to be tied up, but they won't be...not in this story, at least. Will Nessarose return to Oz? How did Muugh the Nome know Leyen? All of that, and more, in my prequels of the Oz-series, establishing my fan-canon of the story, as well as straightening out of some of the more murky facts and paradoxes between Baum and Maguire's works. Those will be coming soon, keep watching out for them.)**


	31. Epilogue

**(AN: Here it is, the end of the longest of my fan-fiction stories: _The Great War of Oz_. It really turned out terribly. I'd like to thank...nobody, for reviewing this story. Your refusal to provide feedback made this very difficult, and I feel that my OCs are one-dimensional, shallow and the story is cheap and stale. That is the one of the reasons I have decided to do a prequel. This chapter sets up the possibility of a sequel, but it is hideously short. Enjoy it...though)**

* * *

**Epilogue**

"So, where does this leave us now?" Ozma asked.

Glinda shook her head as she picked up the small vase and then turned to the others.

"Now we rebuild." she said. "From the ground up, if we have to. A new dawn has come to Oz, the chance for new life, new possibilities and new potential."

The good sorceress walked among the survivors, and said a few words to them.

"Aidan, you are now the General of Oz's army." she said. "I know you will keep our world safe from invasion."

"Your Goodness," Dan'ai said. "Your palace was destroyed."

"It's nothing," Glinda replied. "I must return to the North, to my own home." She then placed the Golden Ring in Aidan's hand, whispered something to her and continued on her way.

Dorothy looked down at her hand, empty of the Ring. She didn't know how it got out of her hand, but she had something else to ask of Glinda.

"'scuse me, Glinda." Dorothy asked. "But could you tell us what happen'd to th' Witch?"

"She's not coming down from the spire, not yet at least." Glinda said knowingly.

"I mean, are we supposed to fear her or sumthin?" Dorothy asked.

"No fear, little girl." Glinda said, turning her gaze towards the Vinkus. "The one you call the Witch has business to attend to. She gave us this message, though."

"What was the message?" Ozma asked.

"Look to the west, if you care to find me." Glinda said with a smile as she did as her old friend said.

All eyes turned to the west, where the clouds were now parting in the wake of the sun. Already it was on its way to the western horizon, for the day had been long spent.

Against the westering sun, they thought they saw a small black speck flying against it, going far off into the distance.

And so the prophecy, made by Nor Tiggular in her self-righteousness, came true.

**ELPHABA LIVES**

* * *

**_THE END_**

* * *

**(AN: And it is over at last! Having seen how I turned this epic tale into a bland, cheesy action-movie-in-story-form [a great insult to literature], it will be a LONG time before I make another action/adventure story. Though I do have to tell the prequels of some of my characters and their adventures. I see that I was not the only one who hated this story, since nobody else cared to review. Thanks, however, to LeiaEmberblaze for her one review and allowing me to use Leyen in my story. I hope I did her justice and she did not act OOC too much. I hope whoever has been reading this story and just being a *** and not reviewing enjoyed it...for what it's worth)**

**(Yes, I paraphrased lines from Wicked the Book _and_ the Musical. No infringement intended. It was done to make this story more connected to both.)**


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